#sebastian stan x fem
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siennafrxst · 2 years ago
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↳ a drunken night 𖤐𓈒࣪₊˚
(part 2)
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if you haven’t read chapter 1, click here.
word count: 0.4k words
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Knock. Knock. Knock.
As Y/N was drying her hair with a towel, she turns to the sudden disturbance coming from behind the door.
“Come in,” she announces loudly for the other person to be able to hear.
The door immediately swings open, revealing the person hiding behind it.
“Seb, hey,” Y/N greets, a hint of slight surpise in her tone.
It seemed as though he had just gotten out of bed and put on a quick attire, due to his messy brown curls and foggy features. Goddamnit, why did he have to look so cute like this?
“Hey,” he greets back, closing the door behind him.
Snapping herself out of her absurd thoughts before being managed to get caught for staring, she connects her eyes with his. The two share an intimate moment of staring, both seeming to be hesitating to say the same desired words.
Do you remember last night?
“Uhm, how’s your hangover? Are you feeling okay?” she quickly asks to fill in the awkward silence.
Sebastian sighs heavily in exhaust. “S’okay. I mean, better than it was when I initially woke up, at least.”
She nodded in agreement, offering a soft smile at the man.
Sebastian brings a hand behind his neck, slightly biting his lower lip before speaking up once more. “Uhm, about last night…”
Y/N gulps nervously as she heard those words. What if he still remembered..?
“Thank you for taking care of me, I’m sure that I was a load to deal with.”
She chuckles in an attempt to hide her sigh of relief. “Of course. I’m here for you, Seb.”
He returns a sheepish smile at his best friend as a sign of gratitude.
And then it was silent yet again. The words were at the tip of their tongue, begging to be released. But neither of them said another word. They simply stood in the regretful silence, so close yet so far from each other, both fearing that they would lose their friendship over some stupid crush.
Little did they know, it wasn’t so stupid after all.
“Well, I better go now. See you later, okay? I’ll make this up to you, I promise.”
Y/N nods slightly. “Yeah, sure. I’ll hold you to that promise.”
Sebastian lets out a soft chuckle before waving a good bye, seeming to hesitate momentarily before exiting the room and closing the door, leaving Y/N alone with her dreaded thoughts.
Was she too late?
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click here for the alternate, happier ending. :)
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 month ago
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lotus
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a/n: this has been sitting half-written on my pc for i don't even know how many months (tbh at least half a year. i was living somewhere else when i started it wow). finally took a deep breath and finished it (though with an ending that kinda flies by a bit because just wanted it to get done. i was scared that the story would never see the light of day, so zooming through the ending was a better option)
summary: a nervous breath then escaped his lungs before he uttered, “you do know what kind of massage this is, right?” to which you only blinked back at him all the same, none of your shock evaporation at his words, “you know that I’m here to give you more than just a regular massage?”
warnings: massage therapist!bucky barnes x reader, smut, sex worker!bucky, bucky doesn't have the metal arm in this one, thinking that your friend just signed you up for a normal massage but then it turns out to be an erotic one, kissing, dirty talk, manhandling, fingering, toys, multiple orgasms, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, anal, double penetration
word count: 4000
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
masterlist | join my taglist
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With a hand tangled up in one of the ties of the robe you wore, you answered your front door after finally hearing the bells chime.
“Hi,” a soft smile swiftly warmed up the features of the man standing on the other side of the threshold, “are you miss Y/l/n?”
“Yeah, I am,” a tingle of nerves flickered through your body as your gaze washed over him, “you must be the masseuse.”
Why did he have to be so attractive? If it was this difficult to remember to breathe when he was standing completely out of your reach, then how were you going to survive a guy such as him touching you?
Following your gaze down to the folded-up table he carried, he nodded, “guilty,” before setting down the duffle bag he clutched in his other hand and extended it for you to grasp, “my name is Bucky.”
“Bucky,” you briefly shook it, “nice to meet you.”
“You too,” the touch faded, and he bent down to pick the supplies back up, “so, where should I set up?”
“Oh, in here, in the living room,” you gestured behind you and shifted to the side for him to enter. As he set up everything, you stayed at the perimeter and felt your heartbeat thump behind your ribcage, “is it weird that I’m a bit nervous?” you then quietly asked.
Briefly pausing his actions as he unfurled the massage table, he cast a glance your way.
“It’s not weird at all, it’s okay,” he stated in a calm tone, “but I assure you, this is a completely safe space, you’re in good hands.”
“I just–, this wasn’t exactly my idea, or even at all,” your hands fiddle further with the terrycloth tie around your waist as you began to ramble, “Nat, my friend, she told me that I needed to relax, so she booked this appointment for me as a treat. I don’t even know what it is she signed me up for, if it was just like a little five-minute long thing or what.”
“Oh no, she signed you up for the full package, 90 minutes.” 
“Really?” your eyebrows rose, “wow, that’s amazing.”
Once the table was set up and he rummaged through the bag for a towel as well as other supplies, his low timbre filled the room once more.
“So, before we start, I’d just like to ask if there’s anything off limits to you, anything you don’t like or that you’re not interested in? Or perhaps something in particular you’d like today?”
“Uh, I don’t think so,” your eyes narrowed slightly as you thought, quickly scanning through your body to get a good sense, “you can just be as rough with me as you want.”
“Alright, you like it rough, good to know,” you felt yourself suck in a silent breath at the way the phrase fell from his lips, “you ready to begin?”
“Yep,” you swallowed, hoping he didn’t notice how flustered he seemed to make you. 
He then lifted up the ivory sheets he’d sprawled out on the plush bench and held it up high, giving you a smidge of privacy as you dropped your robe to a nearby armchair, before laying down on the table and feeling the cotton drape over you. 
As you layed there on your stomach with your face comfortably nestled in the little nook, you sensed Bucky adjust the fabric, folding it down so that your entire back was exposed. 
A dull click found your ears as he pumped some oil into his palm. The very first touch conjured a brisk breath to fill your lungs as his hands slid along your spine, spreading the slickness around. 
Though when you finally managed to force yourself to relax into his touch, a soft moan slipped from your lips as his meticulous grip found a muscle particularly sore.
“Sorry,” you timidly apologized for the sound. 
But he simply zeroed in on the very spot that had made you groan and said, “don’t apologize, whatever bubbles up, please let it out.”
Your lips stayed half parted as his touch dug deeper, “it just feels really good right there...”
“Yeah, you seem to be holding a lot of tension in your back, especially right here between your shoulder blades.”
“Probably all the time on the couch,” you let out a pitiful chuckle, “I just kept on getting into uncomfortable positions and then stayed like that. Which, funnily enough, is pretty symbolic of how I ended up there in the first place, stuffing my face with Ben and Jerry’s and binging the most depressing of romcoms.”
“Bad breakup?” he guessed. 
“I don’t think you can call it a break-up if you never really were together in the first place,” you let out a sigh. Yet again had you fallen for a guy who’d turned out to be a complete and utter asshole, “men are just pigs,” you spat out, “no offence.”
“Oh, none taken,” he uttered, “you know, it’s actually very common for people to get this particular treatment after something like that.”
“Really? Your touch is on the same level as bawling your eyes out to Joni Mitchell?” you jested, “well, now I’m really happy that I let my friend talk me into this.”
Soon, when his touch had kneaded every inch of your back, it faded away and reappeared lower on your frame as you then felt him fold the sheet up to expose your legs, letting the thin fabric only drape across and cover the curve of your bottom. 
Once his touch had soothingly wandered up the length of your legs and as his broad palms dented your slightly parted thighs, you nearly didn’t notice through the trance-like state you’d drifted off to when his reach crept close enough to your core to feel the heat radiating off it. A gasp parted your lips as his fingers briefly ghosted against the very outside of your puff before retreating back down your thigh. 
“Is it alright if remove this for a bit?” he then asked as you felt his hand clutch the sliver of modesty that remained. 
“Oh, uhm,” you fought to comprehend his question through the haze you’d slipped into, both the haze of relaxation, though maybe more predominately the haze of sin, which was most likely what had swayed you to utter, “sure,” trying your best to stay calm as he removed the sheet completely. 
It became a difficult task to keep your quiet noises at bay and have them not seep through your heavy breath as he then began to massage the soft peak of your butt. 
You tried to remind yourself that it was the biggest muscle on the human body and thereby completely normal to be treated in this manner, but that truth would have been easier to swallow if it had been a less attractive specimen touching you in such a way. 
Eventually, Bucky’s lavish rubs came to spread you apart with each repetitive motion, surely granting himself a perfect view of just how mortifyingly wet you’d become. 
As he let his broad thumbs dig into your sitting points, you told yourself it was the slipperiness of the oil that caused his fingers to sweep closer to your core and not your own nectar that had leaked down towards his touch. 
It felt so good that your hips unconsciously tilted up and into his touch, as his thumbs slid close enough to caress your outer lips, nearly capturing them in a gentle pinch. 
You didn’t know how long it took, how long you essentially grinded into him as if you were in heat, but eventually, you snapped out of your fog and realized just where his fingers were. 
��U-uh… w-what are you doing?” your frame jumped slightly at the realization.
“Do you not like this?” his touch paused, though didn’t retreat. 
“Why–, uhm…” you nearly panted, “you’re just very close to somewhere else.”
And when he simply uttered, “yeah, I know,” in an almost amused and cocky tone. You swiftly propped yourself up onto your arms and glared back at him, successfully prompting him to rip his hands away.
Snatching the sheet back over your frame as you scrambled to a seat, you stared back at him in utter shock, “I’m sorry, but are you actually trying to sleep with me right now?”
His brows furrowed slightly as he blinked back at you, seemingly confused at your outburst, “I’m just doing my job.”
“I’ve had massages before, that was not–… that right there was something else. That was not you doing your job, that was your hands being persuaded by your dick.”
A nervous breath then escaped his lungs before he uttered, “you do know what kind of massage this is, right?” to which you only blinked back at him all the same, none of your shock evaporation at his words, “you know that I’m here to give you more than just a regular massage?”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh boy, I’m sorry, I thought you knew…” his glance fell to the floor as he then began to enlighten, “well, the lotus wellness center, where I work, specializes in the blend of not just physical and mental health, but also sexual health and satisfaction. An erotic massage, like the one you were signed up for, is one of the many services we offer.”
Your eyes had grown as wide as saucers during his explanation, “o-oh…”
“I totally understand if you wanna stop, if you’re not interested.”
“I–…” you tried to make heads or tails of the situation you found yourself in, “so you were gonna–, what? Fuck me?”
“I was gonna try and make you feel good, help you relax and unwind. You were signed up for the aurelia treatment which would involve me using my hands to pleasure you, as well as whatever toys you might be interested in.”
“Toys?”
“Yes, I have a generous collection with me,” he briefly gestured back to the duffle bag resting on the couch. 
“Okay, uhm…” one of your palms came down to brush over your features as you fought to comprehend it all.
“Do you want me to pack up and go?” you heard him ask. 
Slowly, ever so slowly, before you even realized it was moving, you shook your head. Letting your gaze flutter back up to find his, you exhaled lowly, “fuck…”
“I can also just give you a completely traditional massage if that’s what you want.”
“…and if I wanna try the other thing?” you nearly whispered. 
“Do you?”  
“I–…” you tried to speak, though couldn’t find the words and ended up just hazily nodding back at him. 
“Alright,” he gently mirrored the nod that still faintly rocked your head, “I won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with, I promise. You just say the word, okay?”
“Okay,” you breathed, shivering slightly at the tingle of goosebumps that spread across your flesh. 
The way he held your gaze a moment longer before shifting it to the massage table you still sat upon made you feel as if you might melt off it entirely.
“Lay back down,” he faintly nodded to the bench. 
Your eyes stayed glued on him long after you now layed sprawled out on your back. 
Letting his touch graze the sheet you still absentmindedly clutched to your chest, he asked, “do you wanna keep this on?”
“No,” you shook your head faintly, “you can remove it.”
“Okay,” he gently peeled the fabric off of you, “just say if you get cold, alright?”
“Mhm,” you hummed, still having a hard time wrapping your head around the fantasy you found yourself in. 
He began by working at your arms, tenderly spreading some oil across them and massaging down the length of them, one at a time, till his skilful fingers descended to work at your palms. It nearly felt as if he was merely holding your hand before he tossed you into the deep end with how intimate the simple beginning sensed. 
You couldn’t command your gaze to leave his visage as you traced his every move as if he was made of stardust. 
When his warmth let go of your hand, he reached for the bottle of oil that didn’t have a pump and unscrewed the top. Your bottom lip got caught by your teeth as he then poured a bit out over your stomach, curving the s-waves of droplets all the way up and across your boobs, dripping over your pebbly nipples as they stared back at him. 
As Bucky began to rub it in, he first stared softly down at your belly before swooping up, only to skip over your tits entirely and instead yanking a disappointed whimper from your lungs as he then commenced massaging your shoulders. 
You felt a bit lightheaded as you blinked up at him, all tall and broad, looming above your head and digging his warm touch into the base of your neck. 
Though when his rough palms finally did swoop down to caress your soft peaks, he quietly checked in, “this okay?” to which you simply nodded your head, eyebrows knitting together at the intenseness of the built-up anticipation.
Your entire chest cage heaved beneath his touch as he finally massaged your boobs, even occasionally fleeting away to ghost across your nipples, only to capture them in a pinch the next moment. 
You felt as if you were floating down a calm stream, letting the river of sin take you somewhere new and wonderful. 
Eventually, his broad palms swept up and down your form, though each time his reach dared to near your core, he barely touched you at all, missing entirely the spots that throbbed for attention, which of course only caused the sensation to deepen and render you even more desperate from his teasing. 
When he then shifted to stand to the side of the patted table, his deep voice washed over you once more as his touch stayed warm against your skin.
“Everything okay so far?”
“Yeah…” you hummed as you lazily blinked up at him, and the soft smile that curved your lips caused a similar one to bloom upon his own. 
His slow stride then carried him further down till his fingers began to dent the softness of your thighs. 
After he’d made your eyes flutter at the way he worked at the muscles in your legs, focusing on one thigh at a time, slowing working his way up till his fingertips stretched to dizzily brush against your outermost petals, it was then, that his sweeps grew and blossomed till one fleeting tease to your centre morphed into more as he kept coming back, each fluttering time slowly transforming till the maddening pets had become everything you’d dreamed of.
Soft whimpers flowed out of your lungs as he gently folded each of your legs up by your sides and cracked you wide open for him.  
As he gazed down at you with such intensity you’d never experienced before, it only took one step for him to change his angle and stand tall next to your hips. 
Letting his palms run up your inner thighs, the edges of each of his broad thumbs then met and joined on either side of your pussy as he captured it in a light pinch, making you moan softly, “fuck….” as his touch rolled your clit through your glistening puff. 
You nearly didn’t catch it because of how hard your own pants were, but Bucky’s own breaths had picked up as well and with a few stray curses seeping through his teeth as he continued to pluck at the strings of your pleasure. 
But then, before you could truly lose yourself to the ecstasy you felt flicking in your periphery, his hands slipped away, a smirk fast on his lips as a whine escaped you and he returned his attention to the rest of your body. Though thankfully, his torture only carried on a short moment before he finally granted you the first of many treats.
“Oh, yeah,” you couldn’t help but moan as he rubbed your clit and carried you over the peak. 
“Right there?” he leaned down closer to you as he kept up his pace, his free hand coming to rest right beside your head as he loomed over you. 
“Yeah,” you breathlessly panted as your body trembled beneath his touch. 
“Yeah?” he huskily echoed, nearly sharing your breath as he drew out your orgasm for as long as he could, and even as your body began to squirm at the sensitivity that swiftly set in, his touch never left you, only lightened to make it bearable and tickle you back from the high. 
He studied your features fiercely as his fingers then came down to tease your entrance. 
“How about this?” your leaky hole swallowed up the two digits he swiftly filled it with, “how’s that? Is that what you want?”
“Oh fuck!” your back briefly arched and lifted you off the table, closer to him for but a moment as sloppy sounds of your want echoed at the slow rhythm he played you at. 
“Or do you need a little more maybe?” he sneaked another finger inside, “huh?” his frame then bent down till you could feel his hot breath fan across your face, “what do you want? You want something more to make you feel good right here?” his fingers slid back out of your pussy and fluttered up till they found your puffy pearl, “or here?” he briefly soared back down to plug up your cunt once more, but only offered you one messily rock before his digits slipped back out and drifted down much further than you expected, “or maybe even here?” you let out a gasp as the slick pads of his fingers glided over your little rosebud. 
“I–, I–,” you struggled to answer him, feeling so foggy that you might just fall off the table, “fuck…” 
“I have any toy you could dream of with me,” he purred as your grip found his shirt for support, “so, what do you want?”
“I want–, I want–”
“What?” he pushed as he continued to stare down into your eyes. 
And as blinked back at him, only one wish came to mind, one that you timidly whispered, “y-you…”
But as fear began to prickle at your nerves, they all dissipated as the masseuse wasn’t offended at all, your words somehow conjuring a dazzled smile to appear upon his lip before he then chuckled warmly, “roll over for me.”
You nearly gave yourself whiplash from the hast you tried to fulfil his command.         
As he soon kneeled down to be on level with where your head was now twisted and resting on its side, his hand drifted up for you to spot the dildo clutched in his grasp. 
Handing it off to your flicking fingers, his touch briefly lingered on your cheek, stroking it softly as he said, “then pretend this is me, will you? Get it nice and sloppy for me.”
When you began to plant pecks across the silicon, your eyes shadowed him as far as they could as he straightened back up and walked back far enough to disappear from your sight, only for you to know where he’d gone to once you felt his mouth begin to devour you whole. 
It became difficult to concentrate on the task he’d given you, so much so that he had to remind you each time his lavish tongue buried between your legs caused your own to forget itself. 
Arching your ass further up towards his efforts, he tilted away from your drooling cunt and instead nipped up till he lapped against your other hole. 
“Oh, that feels really good,” you moaned around the dildo as you tried to catch a glimpse of him, though only saw the edge of one of his hands and they dented your bottom. 
“Yeah?” he let a dollop of spit drop to your rosebud before he nudged the pad of a thumb against it, “you like having this little hole played with?”
“Uh-huh,” you nodded, then watched as he momentarily dipped away to snatch up a butt plug from the zipped-open treasure trove his bag was. 
Once the toy was snugly buried within your little ass, he snatched the dildo out of your mouth and a string of your drool chased the silicone as he brought it back to tap against the sloppy petals of your pussy. 
It didn’t take very long after he’d begun to fuck you with the toy that you tumbled over the edge once more, making you that much more malleable when he yanked at your legs and manhandled you down to the bottom of the bench till your unsteady feet were once again on the floor and he had you bent over the table like a needy whore. 
That was also when your weak pleas began to bubble out, begging for him to fill you up with something other than a toy. 
Even though you couldn’t see his face, you swore you heard a tinge of astonishment in his tone when he asked you to clarify, making sure it really was him that had you begging and not just the way he made you feel. 
Though once you finally managed to convey the sincerity of your words and convince him of the way he and not just the acts he was performing, drove you wild, it was in the middle of chasing your next high that he broke his pattern and traded out the dildo with his own hard cock. 
A low moan seeped across your spine as he buried his length completely and let himself melt down against your back. Letting himself savour the sweetness of your warmth clenching around his fat girth, it took him a while before he finally began to move and soon found a steady pace that had your toes curling against the floorboards. 
His fingers gently dug into the soreness still remaining all down your back as his hips repeatedly collided with the plush of your ass in desperate thrusts. Though as his digits worked their way down the length of your spine, they eventually found the little plug that still remained in your ass. 
Teasingly twisting the toy, you thought that was everything he had planned, though all of those fantasies fluttered away when he suddenly yanked the small plug out and switched it with the bigger toy still firm in his grasp, your little hole only managing to wink up at him before he stuffed it full once more. 
You lost track of the amount of times he made you cum as the remainder of the intense dance became a bit of a blur. At one point he had you flipped around and lying on your back, gasping up at him as he folded you in half and nearly broke the massage table beneath you from how hard his deep strokes were. At the next, the dildo he drove you mad with was traded out with his own fat cock and he conjured a vibrating wand to hold against your puffy clit as he watched your pussy leak from the bliss. But at the end, once you were nothing more than a puddle on the table, his load painted against your tits as he let his frame drape down atop of yours, a hazy question left your lips.
“Is that usually how that goes?” you asked as you both panted, plastered against one another. 
Raising himself up only enough for his eye to catch your own, he uttered sincerely, “no…” and his gaze flickered down towards your lips, “no, it is not…” before he let himself give you the thing you hadn’t dared to request. The kiss was so sweet it nearly caused you to forget the sinful acts you’d just wrapped up.
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© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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navybrat817 · 1 month ago
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Deep in the Woods: Part 1
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Pairing: Soft!Dark Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Fic Summary: A relaxing getaway in the woods may become your permanent home when you catch the eye of a lumberjack.
Series Masterlist | Part 2
Chapter Summary: You encounter your grumpy temporary neighbor while attempting to chop some firewood.
Chapter Word Count: Over 3.3k
Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, bits of MCU canon, cheating mentioned (reader's ex), grumpy x sunshine trope, invasive behavior, reader is too trusting, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and a bit rude at first, okay?), more warnings to come.
A/N: A new dark AU inspired by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor 's ask. ❤️‍🔥 Thanks to @targaryenvampireslayer for cheering me on! ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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The sun shining in the sky was deceiving as you hauled a large piece of wood to the tree trunk. It was chillier than expected, and the cold would only get worse once the sun went down. Your cabin had heat, but you'd be stuck if it went out and you didn’t manage to chop some firewood. Making a fire you could handle. Chopping wood?
That was another story.
“Okay,” you smiled, setting the log upright and adjusting your gloves before you grabbed the axe. You gripped the handle tight, raising it above your head. “I got this.”
The blade hit the log almost dead center. Unsurprisingly though, it barely pierced the wood. You hunched over, tugging at the axe, nearly losing your balance in the process. “I still got this,” you huffed, shaking out your arms and swinging again.
The next swing went deeper, but only by an inch. The swing after that, you nearly missed completely. Sweat beaded on your forehead, your body warming despite the chill in the air. After a moment, you dropped the axe and stared at the log with your hands on your hips. It was nowhere near split.
“I don’t got this,” you sighed.
“Who the hell are you?” a gruff voice asked from behind you.
Your heart leapt to your throat as you spun around, and it raced even faster when you spotted a figure just a few feet away. He was a large man, and one of the most handsome men you had ever seen. He would likely tower over you if he stepped closer. His dark hair hung messily past his shoulders, while his perfectly trimmed beard gave him a rugged edge. The flannel he wore strained against the biceps of his muscular arms, one of the shades of blue matching his thunderous eyes.
Was he glaring at you?
“Hi,” you smiled, trying to sound friendly as you gestured toward the unchopped log. “I was just trying, and failing, to chop some firewood. I hope I'm not disturbing you.”
He kicked a small twig away with his boot. “I didn't ask what you were doing. I asked, ‘Who the hell are you?’”
Your smile slipped. Maybe he was local and didn't like outsiders, though something about him seemed familiar. “Oh, yeah. Right,” you said, giving him your name and nodding to the cabin nearby. “Mr. Hunter rented the place out to me. I’m staying for a couple of weeks. Just got here this morning.” You hoped the place wasn't double booked.
He relaxed a fraction, but his glare didn't disappear completely as he took out his phone and dialed a number. You heard a ring as he put it on speaker. While he tapped a foot impatiently, you weren't sure what to say or do.
“Howdy, neighbor,” a raspy voice answered on the other end.
“Did you rent out your place?” he asked, keeping his eyes on you when your face got hot. You wanted to yell that you wouldn't lie about something like that, but that didn't seem like a good idea.
“Yeah. Pretty lady. Paid in full upfront. Clean background, too.” You looked at your feet. It was weird to listen in even though it was on speaker. And did he say “clean background���? What did that mean? “Why? Is she-”
The man hung up the phone. “Didn't think he rented his cabin out anymore,” he said more to himself than you.
An awkward silence filled the air. “Yeah, well, apparently he does. I booked it a couple of months ago and he left a code to get in and some instructions for the place,” you explained, trying to smile again as you looked around and breathed in the fresh air. “It’s a really nice place and the view up here is gorgeous, like something out of a photograph. Do you live nearby?”
He grunted and jutted his chin out. “My cabin is the next one over to the left.”
“That’s nice,” you smiled more, grabbing the axe again. “And it was very interesting meeting you, temporary neighbor, but I should try to finish this up.”
Before you could blink, the man was directly in front of you with one hand on the handle. He was even bigger up close. “If you’re thinking of taking another swing at that log, don't,” he barked at you, snatching the axe from your hands. You weren’t sure if it was his tone or him grabbing it from you that made you flinch. “This isn't a toy, it’s dangerous. And from the looks of that log you have no business trying to do that to begin with.”
Your cheeks burned again. It was bad enough that this guy didn't take your word for staying at the cabin, but the last thing you needed was for some stranger to lecture or humiliate you, and a grumpy one at that. “Yeah, well, if my cheating asshole of a boyfriend hadn't been balls deep in his colleague, we wouldn't be having this conversation. He'd be out here chopping firewood and I’d be inside cooking, which is something I'm actually good at, thank you very much,” you snapped.
Your tone surprised him enough to let you take the axe back. “I didn't…” he trailed off when you held up a hand.
“You don't know me and that’s fine, but I’m trying to be friendly and that's more than you can say,” you continued, his nostrils flaring. He didn't have to be nice to you, but he didn't need to be rude either. “And not that it’s any of your business, but I'm stuck here by myself, I’m trying my best to make it work, and I don't need some random stranger out here giving me a hard time for no reason.”
Your eyes burned as he stared at you, but you squared your shoulders and held your head high. You spent enough time crying over a prick who wasn’t worth it and you refused to shed another tear because you deserved better than an unfaithful asshole. And you sure as hell wouldn't cry in front of some hot grump with a chip on his shoulder.
The man’s pensive look dissipated more of your sudden anger and his tone softened considerably when he asked, “You’re really out here by yourself?”
You tensed up. It wasn't smart of you to broadcast that you were all by your lonesome. “Yeah, for now,” you said, your voice softer, too. Maybe you could convince a friend to stop by for a day or so. “I know I’m not good with an axe, but I tried. I just wanted some firewood in case the heat went out for any reason,” you said, your shoulders sagging. “So if you don't mind, can I please finish up?”
He nodded, taking the axe more gently this time. “Let me,” he offered, your eyes wide at his change in demeanor. “And step back. I don't want you to get hurt.”
Once you moved out of the way, he lifted the axe and split the log down the middle with expert precision. With his view on the task at hand, you swept an appreciative gaze over him. The guy was a bit of a grump, but he filled his jeans out well. “I’m sorry I snapped at you, mister,” you told him, getting a grunt in response. “My problems aren't your problems and I didn't mean to get so defensive about my lack of wood chopping skills.”
“You can call me Bucky,” he said, grabbing another log. “And nothing to be sorry for. I didn't exactly lay out the welcome mat for you.”
“It’s… Wait, Bucky.” Your eyes widened in realization. “Bucky Barnes?”
He froze before he brought the axe down again. “Heard of me?”
“Of course I have. You helped save the world,” you smiled. Years back, an alien warlord had wiped out half of the population. Not only did a group of heroes called the Avengers help reverse the wipeout, but they stopped the monster with the help of many others across the galaxy. Bucky was one of those people. No wonder he seemed so familiar. “You’re a hero.”
A tortured one at that. You remembered seeing a few articles about him. A former prisoner of war turned brainwashed assassin turned hero. He was pardoned for the crimes committed while was brainwashed, and rightfully so in your opinion, and he went on to use his skills and expertise to help others.
What was he doing out here in the woods?
“Not really a hero anymore,” he said, brushing his hair back with his forearm. “Now I’m just a lumberjack who values his privacy.”
“Oh.” That answered your question. “I guess valuing your privacy explains why you didn't roll out the welcome mat,” you teased, wringing your fingers together. You felt kind of bad again for snapping at him. Given his past that you were aware of, it made sense why he would've been suspicious of someone new popping up near his home.
He stopped to glance at you. “Guess it’s my turn to apologize,” he said.
You blinked, not wanting to lose yourself in his deep gaze. “No need. I figured you were just a local who didn't like new people around.” You smiled at the pile of wood he made. “I think you chopping firewood for me is the perfect apology. You saved me a lot of time and trouble.”
He hummed, putting the blade in the tree trunk once he finished. “You said you cook?” he asked, wiping his gloves on his jeans as he faced you.
“Yeah. I actually have a stew keeping warm right now,” you replied, shifting on your feet when he stared you down. “Are you hungry? I made plenty.”
“Sure,” he shrugged.
“Okay.” Your smile faltered when you walked toward the cabin with Bucky close behind. Was it a good idea to invite him in when you didn't exactly know him? The guy was a hero though. No reason to be suspicious.
The aroma of seasonings, beef, and vegetables greeted you as you opened the door and set your gloves on the entry table. “If you don’t mind taking your boots off, that was one of the instructions,” you told him, removing yours and hanging your coat on the hook.
While the cabin wasn’t large, it was in great condition. It was also extremely clean and tidy. The guy who owned it likely didn’t want dirt on his floors.
“Yeah, God’s kind of picky about that stuff,” Bucky said, putting his gloves on top of yours. You caught a glimpse of his metal hand, but you quickly looked away. It wasn’t polite to stare.
“Wait. The G in G.B. Hunter stands for God?” Your brows pinched as you walked toward the kitchen. “What the hell does the B stand for?” you muttered to yourself.
“That’s really what it stands for. He’s a bit of a strange guy, but a good neighbor when he’s here,” Bucky said, following close again. He was practically on top of you. “So, your boyfriend. He-”
“Ex-boyfriend,” you corrected him, inhaling deeply as you lifted the lid from the warm pot. The scent brought a smile to your face and pushed a bit of the bitterness away. “What about him?”
Bucky grabbed a couple of bowls from the cupboard. He knew where the spoons were, too, so he was at least somewhat familiar with the place. You weren’t sure how that made you feel. “How long were you two together?”
“Almost a year,” you replied. A waste of about twelve months and it wouldn't be fun to start over again.
He set the bowls on the counter before he grabbed a couple of drinks, sweeping a look over you. “Did you catch him cheating?” he asked curiously.
You froze, the image of your ex scrambling to cover himself and his colleague up as you walked in taking over your mind. You had to blink multiple times to make the image go away, but it didn’t stop your stomach from turning. “Yep,” you answered, your throat tight. Why did he want to know? “Tried to give me some lame excuse that it wasn't what it looked like, but I slapped him and said we were done. I can forgive a lot of things, but cheating isn’t one of them.”
“Loyalty is a good trait to want in a partner,” he mused.
“It is, but it’s a trait he didn't have apparently. At least we didn’t live together,” you continued, taking a breath. It hurt and felt good to talk about it. “We were supposed to come up here for a getaway and I debated cancelling the reservation, but I figured it would be a good way to clear my head.”
The kitchen felt warmer and you figured it was because you were close to the stove until you realized Bucky was right at your back. You went rigid when he inhaled. Maybe he was just smelling the food. “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear.
You gripped the ladle until your hand ached. “Not your fault,” you whispered, keeping perfectly still. If you moved forward, the stove would burn you. If you moved back, you’d be right against him. It was a small kitchen, but there was no reason for him to stand so close.
You didn’t exhale until he moved to set the drinks on the table. “You got a job?” he asked.
Clearing your throat, you nodded, thankful for the change in topic. “Yeah, data entry. Not too exciting, but it’s decent pay and I don’t have to go into an office or deal with traffic.” You scooped a generous portion of stew into a bowl for him, just in case he was really hungry. “As long as I have my laptop and an internet connection, I can get the job done.”
“Must be nice,” he commented, but it sounded more admirable than sarcastic. “You said you and your ex didn’t live together. Do you have a roommate? Pets?”
You side-eyed him. The tone was casual, but what was with the multiple questions? “I live alone because my apartment is about the size of a shoebox,” you said. It was cozy though and yours. “Nice thing is the rent is cheap. Sad thing is the building is pet free.”
He took out his phone as you got your bowl ready. “I have a cat,” he said, shoving the phone close to your face. It was a photo of a beautiful white cat sitting by a window. It was endearing picturing a burly man holding such a delicate creature. “Her name’s Alpine.”
You smiled at the image. “She’s really beautiful. I’ve always loved cats.”
He smiled a little, too, but it went away as fast as it appeared. “She’s very particular with people, but you’re welcome to meet her.” He took the bowl from your hand to carry them to the small table nearby. “She might like you since you’re sweet.”
Heat rolled up your neck. “That’s nice of you to offer, but I wouldn’t want to impose,” you said. It wasn’t like you had any plans during your time there, but he had done enough by chopping the firewood for you.
His jaw ticked. “If it was an imposition I wouldn't have asked.”
“Oh, I wasn't trying to imply anything,” you promised, your stomach twisting in knots. It wasn't your intention to upset him.
“Are you allergic to cats?”
“No, I’m not,” you answered.
He set the bowls on the table and leveled you with a hard stare. “Then I think you should meet her,” he said, pulling out a chair for you. It sounded more like an order than a suggestion. “Sit.”
You hesitated before you sat down. “Okay then,” you said. Maybe he was trying to make up for being rude earlier by welcoming you in some capacity. “Does tomorrow work?”
His lip curled up in a smile, giving you a nod, too. “Tomorrow. Early afternoon,” he replied, taking a seat. How did he still look so big sitting down? You watched him blow on a spoonful of stew before he took a bite, his eyes shutting with a groan. It was a deep, primal sound and you shouldn't have liked hearing it. “This is… really good.”
You beamed, unable to help yourself. You took pride in your cooking. “I’m glad you like it,” you said, digging in, too. “So, you said you’re a lumberjack now. How long have you been doing that?”
He hunched over a bit as he took a few more bites, like he hadn't eaten all day. “About nine months. Tough mission happened and I had to walk away from it.” He shrugged dismissively. Did the mission have a bad outcome or was it just the straw that broke the camel’s back? It wasn’t any of your business. “Came out to the woods with Alpine, started chopping down trees to work out some of my frustration, and it somehow became my new job. The woods suit me better than the city anyway.”
“Yeah? How so?”
He shrugged again. “It’s quiet, peaceful. No judging or prying eyes,” he answered, pushing the now empty bowl away. It almost sounded like he was hiding from the world. “And I don’t mind working with my hands. Can chop trees down pretty fast and it doesn’t take long to get the logs to the sawmill. Even built some of my own furniture in my place.”
“You build your own furniture? That’s so cool,” you smiled. It took a moment, but he smiled back a little. “Being a lumberjack sounds like hard but satisfying work,” you added. You admired him for being a hero, but also for his new, humble lifestyle.
“Yeah, it is.” He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his stomach. “This might be rude to ask, but you wouldn’t mind making us lunch tomorrow, would you? I can cook, but it’s nothing like yours.”
You bit the inside of your cheek. Part of you took it as a compliment that he liked your cooking, but something in his stare made you want to squirm. Could it be the assumption that you were going to have lunch with him when all he said was that he wanted you to meet his cat? “I don’t mind,” you smiled. Maybe the guy was a bit lonely and just wanted someone to share a meal with. You could sympathize with that. “Anything in particular you like? If I don’t have it, I can go to town and-”
“Surprise me, doll.” The chair scraped along the floor as he pushed himself up, towering over the table and you. “And don’t bother going to town. Whatever you have here to cook, I’ll eat it.”
“I’ll surprise you then.” Your brows pinched as he went back to the kitchen. He walked around like he owned the place. “Oh, help yourself,” you said when he stopped at the stove for another bowl.
He paused to look back at you. His blue eyes looked a shade darker and you couldn’t help but shiver. “I plan to,” he stated.
You gave him a smile, discreetly patting your pants pocket to make sure you still had your phone on you. It wasn’t like you needed to call anyone for help, but you were all alone and had to be careful. You were still going to have a nice time though. It would be a relaxing trip and you could catch up on reading, relaxing, whatever you wanted.
Besides, Bucky was nearby just in case. The guy didn’t seem to have a complete sense of boundaries, but he wasn’t a bad guy. He was a hero. You didn’t have anything to fear.
Right?
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Oh, our reader did herself no favors by answering truthfully that she's all alone. I wonder how Bucky will play this... Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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talaok · 5 months ago
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Old Man
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: Joel needs glasses but won't admit it, and there's only an amount of teasing a man can take before he decides to show you just how much of an old man he is.
warnings: unprotected p in v sex, creampie, hair pulling, (joel gets a lil rough)
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Ellie was the one to start it all,
I mean it's not like you hadn't noticed, but she was the one that started with the jokes.
Not very honorable of you to blame it all on the 14 year old, you knew... but still, just to get the record straight, you weren’t the one to tease him first.
“Gimmie Granpa” she had chuckled one time, grabbing the piece of paper where Maria had written down the recipe for her 'world-famous' casserole from his hands.
"Hey-" He'd protested,
"You can't see shit, man" she giggled, "Stop trying to fight it- you're getting old buddy"
And well from then on things had... escalated.
You'd yet to see a day where the poor man wasn't made fun of because of it, but truth be told, he really did need glasses.
You'd even suggested it to him more gently, in the comfort of your own room, away from Ellie's prying eyes.
"y'know baby, there's nothing wrong with getting glasses"
He'd looked at you as if you'd just told him to go fuck himself.
"Don't look at me like that" you'd smiled, rounding the bed to intertwine your hands behind his neck "It's for your own good"
"I don't need glasses"
"no?" you'd bit down a grin "you sure?"
"'m sure alright" he grumbled
"I bet Tommy would know where to get you a pair if you asked"
"darlin'"
"yes, baby?" you'd asked, hopeful
"I don't need 'em"
And you really did want to keep on trying to convince him, but then he'd kissed you and well- it must have slipped your mind.
Unluckily for him, not for a very long time.
He was in the bathroom, trying, or more specifically struggling, to open a bandaid for your injured finger.
It wasn't anything serious, just a little cut, but as you'd disinfected it, he'd insisted on covering it up, only of course you hadn't expected it to take so long.
"Baby, what's wrong, you can't find them?"
But the answer to your question was right before you as you entered the bathroom.
As I said, he was struggling.
A laugh bubbled up your throat as you took in his focused expression, the frown on his forehead, the squint in his eyes...
"Let me do it"
"No I can do it I just-" he tried to get it open again, failing miserably.
"Joel-" you smiled, walking up to him "let me" you said softly
And with a sigh, he surrendered, handing you the poor, tortured bandaid
"I could have done that" he grumbled as he watched you do it in a split second.
"Sure you could, old man" You grinned to yourself, carefully applying the bandage to your finger.
"What did you just say?"
A soft, breathless gasp fled your mouth-
He'd moved right behind you, and his hands were now on your waist.
"Jesus babe" you laughed,
"What did you say?"
His voice was rough, and his eyes... something had shifted behind his eyes.
You watched his reflection in the mirror before you as you answered
"I said I'm sure you could"
"Mhh" he hummed, his head lowering until he could dive into your neck and inhale your scent "The other thing"
"what other thing?" you feigned innocence, enthralled by his demeanor, by the almost predatorial look in his eyes
"You know what"
"no I don'-"
But you didn't have time to finish, he'd already grabbed you by your hair, pulling your head back until his mouth was ghosting yours
"you called me an old man, darlin'?"
He was a different man from a minute ago.
This was the Joel Miller people feared, the one that killed without remorse, the one that fucked you rough- the once that a sick and twisted part of you revered.
"Baby I was jokin-"
"didn't look like it" he growled, his clothed hard-on pressing into your ass making you whimper, "you think I'm an old man, babydoll?" he murmured, his grip tightening around your hair "I'll show you how much of an old man I am"
Next thing you knew, your upper body was flushed against the sink's countertop, and your shorts were at your feet, together with your panties.
You watched from the mirror as he freed his cock with the hand that wasn't holding you down, and then you felt it-
"will you look at that" he chuckled darkly, the tip of his dick sliding between your folds with ease "you're makin' a mess for an old man, babydoll"
"J-Joel" you whimpered
"no no darlin'" he cooed "You've brought this on yourself- now you're gonna be good and take it, alright?"
When you didn't respond, he yanked your head back, forcing you to look at him through the mirror
"alright?" he bent down, growling in your ear
"y-yes"
"try not to be too loud," he whispered "You wouldn't want people to know how much you like getting fucked by an old man"
You had no time to respond, to tell him how much you didn't care, because he'd already pushed himself fully inside of you, and the only thing you could do was scream.
"you can't help yourself can ya?" he muttered, watching your face contort in all sorts of bliss-induced expressions "The old man gives it to ya too good, 's that it?" he groaned, feeling your walls squeeze around him
"look at me" he ordered, pulling your hair again, making you open your eyes and watch him as he ruthlessly slammed inside of you "Look at the old man who's fuking you, darlin', don't be rude" he grinned
The sound of his skin against yours reverberated through the bathroom, and god it was nasty.
"f-fuck" you tried to speak, tears tarnishing your vision
"I know, I know" he pretended to care, getting up from where he was pressing his torso onto your back, using a hand to get you to remain flush against the sink "I'm going too slow, ain't I?"
Oh shit
Oh fucking shi-
If you thought he was going hard before... you hadn't seen anything.
You couldn't fully create one single thought in your mind as he picked up his pace, as he started literally slamming into you fast and hard enough to break you in half.
"I'm jus' an old man after all babydoll, ain't I?" he breathed, one hand still on your back while the other was still forcing your head up to look at him "You'll understand if I can't fuck you as hard as you'd like" it was like he wasn't hearing how loud you were moaning, how breathless your whines and gasps where each time his dick hit your cervix "what's that?" he mocked "you need it harder darlin'?"
"J-Joel-" you whined, begging, pleading for what you weren't even sure
"shh I got you baby" he cooed, bending down to whisper in your ear again, slowing down his pace just to thrust so fucking deep and hard into you you swore you saw stars "I know my old man's pace ain't enough for you doll"
But it was- Oh it was more than enough.
And yet he didn't care- he was going even harder, even faster, even deeper, and you... you didn't even remember your name anymore.
You could feel the thickness of his cock as it slammed into you over and over and over again, the way it would hit the most hidden spots inside of you, the ones only Joel had only ever been able to find, and then-
And then you could hear his grunts and strangled groans as he fucked you within an inch of your life, as his hair fell to his forehead and tears streamed down your face and your eyes struggled to remain open, struggled to keep on watching him as he fucked you from behind with enough force to break the fucking sink you were on.
Until it got to be too much, until you felt your stomach tighten and the fuse lighting, until he hit that secret spot once again, and all you could do was close your eyes as bliss took over your body, as waves of ecstasy washed over you.
"look at you" he groaned "coming all over an old man's cock" he breathed, your walls squeezing him too good to do anything else but follow suit "letting an old man come deep inside of ya"
It took a long moment for either of you to wake up from the sex-induced haze, but Joel was in much better shape than you, so it was him who came back earlier.
he begrudgingly pulled out, enjoying for a moment too long his own handy work before he helped you up, picking you up bridal style once he realized how useless your legs had become.
"baby" you murmured, before he could place you on the bed "You know I was joking right?" you said, leaning up to kiss him, your mouth catching his in a sweet, gentle kiss that contradicted completely the way he'd just ruined your ability to walk properly
"You're not an old man" you promised
"mh?" he hummed, kissing you again just because he could
"yeah" you smiled, melting into the kiss for what felt like an eternity
He was holding you gently, watching your eyes as they begged to close.
"good" he hummed against your mouth, watching it twist into a devious little smirk as a spark ignited in your eyes
"Although I still think you should at least consider getting glasses-"
"darlin'" he stopped you immediately "I suggest you stop talkin''"
"or what?" you bit down a grin, laughing softly
"Or Tommy's gonna be real mad when you tell him you can't make it to patrol tomorrow 'cause your legs don't work"
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societyfolklore · 14 days ago
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Stay Still
Title: Stay Still (Prompt- how is the mistletoe following you around) Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: The Avengers’ Christmas party takes an unexpected turn when mistletoe starts mysteriously following you around. You assume it’s Tony or Peter playing pranks, but the truth is much darker—and more deliberate. Bucky has been strategically placing the mistletoe, his plan as subtle as a super soldier’s smirk. Will you figure it out before the mistletoe gets its way?
Word Count:  2.2K
Warnings:  /Warnings // Explicit Content //1 8+, Minors DNI, smut, Unprotected sex.  Probably others.. Not Beta read.
A/N: Another entry for @the-slumberparty December daze challenge – Day 15)
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The annual Avengers Christmas party was, as always, a grand affair. Tony had outdone himself again, decking the compound with extravagant decorations and enough lights to compete with the New York skyline. Mistletoe hung in strategic spots, its placement suspiciously coincidental for maximum awkwardness. You’d rolled your eyes at the sheer absurdity of it all when you arrived, but as the night went on, you couldn’t help but notice a pattern.
The mistletoe seemed to be… following you.
At first, you brushed it off as a prank. Tony or Peter was likely behind it. The first time you noticed, you were standing near the snack table, chatting with Natasha. A soft chuckle behind you caught your attention, and you turned to see Bucky leaning against the counter, watching you with an amused expression.
“You’ve got something over your head, doll,” he said, nodding upward.
You glanced up, spotting the offending mistletoe dangling directly above you. “Very funny,” you muttered, glaring at the green sprig as if it had personally insulted you. “Where’s Peter? This has his fingerprints all over it.”
Bucky shrugged, his lips quirking into a smirk. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
You didn’t believe him for a second. “Right,” you said, grabbing your drink and moving to another part of the room. But an hour later, when you were talking to Sam near the fireplace, there it was again—dangling innocently above you like it had every right to be there.
“Seriously?” you groaned, pointing up at the mistletoe. Sam burst out laughing, drawing the attention of half the room.
Bucky, conveniently nearby, chimed in. “Guess the universe is trying to tell you something.”
“Yeah,” you shot back. “That I need to get a restraining order against a plant.”
Bucky’s laugh was low and warm, and for a moment, you forgot your irritation as his tone stroked up your spine like honey. He looked good tonight—too good. His dark sweater clung to his frame, his hair tossed back. You tore your gaze away, determined not to let him distract you.
As the night went on, the mistletoe’s antics grew increasingly suspicious. It didn’t matter where you went—whether you were grabbing a drink, sitting on the couch, or even stepping outside for fresh air—it always seemed to find you. By the third or fourth occurrence, you were convinced someone was actively moving it.
“Alright,” you said aloud, hands on your hips. “Who’s behind this? Tony? Peter? Clint?”
“Why are you so sure it’s a prank Doll?” Bucky asked, appearing beside you with perfect timing, as usual.
“Because mistletoe doesn’t grow legs and follow people around,” you replied, narrowing your eyes at him. “Unless you know something I don’t?”
“Maybe it’s just good luck,” he said with a shrug, his smirk firmly in place. “Or maybe it likes you.”
You rolled your eyes, but his teasing tone sent a flutter through your chest. Bucky had been hovering around you all night, and while you couldn’t prove he was involved, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew more than he was letting on.
Later that evening, you found yourself alone in the kitchen, enjoying a rare moment of quiet. You leaned against the counter, the cool surface grounding you as you tried to shake off the lingering tension from the party. Your thoughts, however, kept drifting back to Bucky—his smirk, his teasing, the way his eyes seemed to follow you no matter where you went. It wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about him before, but tonight he felt different, like a storm you couldn’t outrun.
The door creaked open, and you didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was. The air shifted, heavier now, charged with something unspoken.
“You hiding in here?” Bucky’s voice was low, a teasing edge laced with something darker.
“Maybe,” you replied, glancing over your shoulder. “Or maybe I’m trying to escape the world’s most persistent mistletoe.”
“Funny you mention that,” he said, his boots thudding softly against the floor as he stepped closer. You turned to face him fully, only to find him standing directly beneath the mistletoe, his tall frame cutting an imposing figure against the dim kitchen light.
“Oh, come on,” you groaned, gesturing at the offending plant. “Did you bring that in here with you?”
“Maybe,” he admitted, his smirk widening into something sharper. “Or maybe it just knows where it’s supposed to be.”
You crossed your arms, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened. “Alright, Barnes. Spill. What’s your deal?”
“My deal?” he repeated, tilting his head slightly, his expression unreadable. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do,” you said, stepping closer despite your better judgment. “You’ve been hovering around me all night, and somehow, that thing”—you pointed at the mistletoe—“keeps showing up wherever I go. So what’s the plan? Embarrass me into kissing you in front of everyone?”
Bucky’s smirk faded slightly, his eyes darkening as he studied you. The playful edge in his demeanour shifted, replaced by something far more deliberate. He stepped into your space, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. The gesture was slow, almost languid, as if he were savouring the moment.
“No plan,” he said quietly, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “Just thought I’d give you a little nudge.”
Your heart stuttered at his words, your resolve wavering under the weight of his gaze. “A nudge?” you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.
He nodded, his thumb trailing along your cheek with agonizing slowness. “You’ve been driving me crazy all night, doll. Watching you, wanting you… Figured it was time to stop pretending.”
The air between you crackled, heavy with tension that felt like it could snap at any moment. You wanted to move, to say something, but his presence pinned you in place, his touch igniting something raw and electric inside you.
“So this whole mistletoe thing…”
“Was my idea,” he admitted, his voice a dark, velvety drawl. “Not my best work, but it got your attention, didn’t it?”
You tried to muster a response, but the words caught in your throat as his hand slid from your cheek to your neck, his fingers brushing the sensitive skin just below your jaw. His grip was firm but not unkind, a subtle reminder of the strength that hummed beneath his calm exterior.
“Why so quiet, doll?” he asked, his lips curving into a wicked grin. “Not used to someone chasing you for a change?”
The challenge in his tone sent a shiver down your spine, and you met his gaze with as much defiance as you could muster. “I….”
His grin widened, his thumb pressing lightly against the hollow of your throat. “Now, I’ve put in a lot of work to get your attention.”
Before you could respond, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours with a deliberate slowness that left you trembling. The kiss wasn’t soft—it was consuming, demanding, his hand sliding to your waist as he pulled you flush against him. You gasped against his mouth, your fingers instinctively gripping his sweater as the world around you blurred into nothingness.
When he finally pulled back, his lips still hovering dangerously close to yours, his voice was low and rough. “Now be a good girl and do as your told. The mistletoe knows what it was doing.”
Standing in the kitchen tension rising between you. He brushed something against your cheek, the damn mistletoe again..
"Let's get out of here," he said, his voice low and husky. "I think we've had enough of the party for one night."
All you could do was no, your voice caught in your throat. He took your hand, his metal fingers wrapping around yours, and led you out of the kitchen. You walked in silence, the only sound the soft rustle of the mistletoe as he carried it with him.
As you entered his room, he closed the door behind you, the click of the lock echoing through the silence. He turned to face you, his eyes burning with intensity.
"I've been waiting for this moment all night Doll," he said, his voice dripping with desire. "I've been watching you, wanting you... and now, I'm going to have you."
He took a step closer, his hands reaching out to undo the zip on your dress. You felt a shiver run down your spine as he slowly peeled the fabric away from your skin, his fingers tracing the curve of your neck.
The mistletoe was still clutched in his metal hand, and he ran it along your skin, the soft leaves tickling your flesh. You felt a gasp escape your lips as he touched the mistletoe to your nipple, the sensation sending a spark of electricity through your body.
He undressed you slowly, his hands worshiping your skin as he exposed it to the cool air. You felt vulnerable, yet empowered, as he gazed at you with adoration.
“Feel like silk sweetheart..”
His eyes never leaving yours, and led you to the bed. You lay down, your heart pounding in your chest, as he followed you, his body pressing against yours. Taking off his own clothes enjoying the hungry look in your eyes as you took him in, pulling you to his lap while he leant against his headboard, same smug grin on his face.
The mistletoe was still clutched in his hand, and he ran it along your skin, the leaves tickling your flesh. You felt a shiver run down your spine as he touched the mistletoe to your lips, his mouth claiming yours in a searing kiss.
As you broke apart for air, he whispered, "I've been waiting for this moment for so long. I'm not going to let you go.”
And with that, he slid inside you, his body moving in perfect sync with yours. The mistletoe was forgotten, lost in the passion that consumed you both.
As you moved together, your bodies entwined, you felt like you were losing yourself in the moment. The world outside melted away, leaving only the two of you and the noises he could ring from you. His metal hand fisted in the back of your hair, still clutching that damn strig of mistletoe, forcing your head back his mouth kissed at your throat, making his way up to your ear. “Down you go Doll.” The voice sounded soft but the tug on your hair was clear, and you lowered yourself back down taking more of him back inside of you. “Let him kiss it again." 
Your thigh shook as you went down, going all the way until he was pushed back up against your cervix as he bottomed out. “Yeah that right.” He groaned, you mewled “Now come on, little bounces.”  His tip nudging- kissing it again and again while you panted. “Buck,” you managed, your voice unsteady you were losing yourself as he moved your hips up his other hand moving between you.
“Oh doll she such a messy kisser, drooling all over me.” His fingers pressing into your clit while he had you bouncing on him, your hand grabbing his headboard behind his head, his body pressed against yours, his chest warm against yours. All you could do was pant and keen as he meet your little movement with his own. “Shh shh, I know.” His voice soothing as you continued to bounce on him, his fingers worked their magic on your clit, sending shivers down your spine. You felt like you were losing control, your movements becoming more erratic as you chased the pleasure. Bucky's grip on your hair tightened, his mouth still kissing your throat, sending sparks flying through your body.
“Aah.” His thrusts were slow and deliberate, his tip kissing your cervix with each stroke. You felt like you were being pulled apart, your body torn between the pleasure of his fingers on your clit and the sensation of him moving inside you. “There you go Doll, just, got to, let go..”  His words emphasised with thrusts.
You felt like you were being consumed, your body overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through you. Your legs began to shake, your thighs trembling as you approached the edge.
"Bucky," you managed to gasp, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own ragged breathing. He responded by thrusting into you harder, his fingers moving faster on your clit.
You felt like you were flying, your body soaring through the air as you came. The sensation was intense, overwhelming, and you felt like you were going to pass out from the sheer force of it.
As you came back down to earth, you realized that Bucky was still moving inside you, his thrusts slow and gentle now. You felt like you were floating, your body relaxed and sated. "Stay still, doll," Bucky whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "I'm not done with you yet."
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spidey-webz · 2 months ago
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the sweetest sin – bucky barnes
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!reader
Summary: Bucky goes undercover at a charity event to get closer to you. You’re his mission. But that dress you’re wearing is a little too tempting…
Warnings: 18+ ONLY, r deals with weapons, r and bucky have a shared history, mentions of bucky’s trauma, r wears a dress, r is also shorter than bucky, somewhat public sex (in a restroom, door closed), slight dom bucky, they’re both really horny, very little plot, oral sex (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, mirror sex, overstimulation, dirty talk, use of petnames (doll, darling), fingering with the metal hand, hair pulling
Word Count: 4k
A/N: This idea came to me after seeing the Thunderbolts trailer and I really hope you'll like this one!!
Masterlist
The ballroom was filled with chatter and music. Multiple waiters were balancing champagne glasses on their trays, walking from group to group and handing them out with a smile. There were men discussing business deals, old friends exchanging memories and some women holding onto their husbands’ arms as they laughed. 
None of them paid any particular mind to the man in the corner of the room. 
Bucky Barnes was leaning against a stone pillar, his eyes roaming through the room as he attempted to find you in the crowd somewhere. He had declined every glass of champagne, so he could stay alert if you passed by him. 
He had not seen you in a while. To be honest, he had never kept up with your life. His own had been quite the mess after the Blip, but seeing your name in the mission file served as enough of a reminder of what you two had shared. Bucky had been a man without a path ahead of him, only fleeing from everyone that might recognise him, and there you had been – in Romania. You had only spent a few weekends together, but he had enjoyed them all the same. For that short while, he had felt like a normal man. 
When had things gone wrong in your life? Or had you always been involved with this kind of trade? 
The files on you did not mention any criminal activity when he had first met you in 2016. Had it been the Blip that forced you to join illegal weapon trading? Had it been something else in your life?
Bucky could never say he knew you. There had been many secrets between the two of you, starting with his very own identity. You had made him feel safe and yet he hadn’t been able to share his name with you, too afraid that it might slip you at the market or at the gas station. 
Back then, he barely even knew himself. His memories had been a disorganised mess, a whirl of moments and feelings he could not exactly put together. Even being with you, feeling your warm body around him and having your lips wander like feathers over his skin – it had felt almost foreign to his troubled mind. 
Those memories were cherished by him and once he had settled back into a somewhat normal life, Bucky had found himself reminiscing about them on lonely nights. 
Now he was after you. 
There were so many women with the same hair colour as you, but he felt certain that he would still recognise you between all of them. Sam did not know why he had been so determined on receiving this mission, but he would explain it to him in due time. Bucky had promised to reduce the number of secrets he had, but he had never felt comfortable sharing you with anyone. Until now, he had kept you hidden away in a part of his heart that only he could access – in the middle of the night, in quiet moments, in the comfortable space of his bed. 
A flash of white passed by him. Another man might have missed it, but he had been trained to notice any movement in the corner of his eye for years. He turned his head to the side, trying to find the same white dress in the crowd again and there you were. 
Your dress was low-cut, no sleeves and a slit on the side for your thigh and knee to peak through with every step. He flexed his jaw, taking a deep breath as he watched you talk with a man he did not recognise. A glass of champagne rested easily in your hand, your eyes fixed on the person in front of you. He was not blessed with enough enhanced hearing to make out any part of the conversation, yet he found himself entranced with the movements of your lips. 
Bucky had feared that this might happen. He had not seen you in so long and there were so many questions floating around in his head, so many unspoken things on his tongue. But you were his mission all the same and he had hoped to make this entire ordeal a little bit easier on you if it was him that came looking for you. 
The dress you were wearing almost demanded all of his attention. His cheeks started to feel warm once he allowed the memories to flood in. He had you spread out on your bed, his tongue expertly moving between your folds, strong arms holding you in place just for him. You had squeezed his cock so beautiful during every night you two shared and this dress, the flashes of your skin, all of it reminded him of those moments. 
In an attempt to gather himself, he pulled on the ends of his jacket, straightening it in the process.  
People always moved out of his way. Even with his metal hand covered up, they often didn’t want to cross him. It was a strange sensation, no doubt. Bucky would not call himself particularly frightening. 
He did not mean to interrupt your conversation, but he did linger a little closer to you than before. If he caught you alone for a moment, he could speak to you. 
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You had seen him when you had turned around to place down your glass of champagne. Bucky Barnes had been a momentary part of your life in Romania, but he had lingered in the back of your mind for years. You had changed and so had the world around you. It didn’t change the way his touch had seemed to stay with you. In lonely moments, it had become a source of comfort, a source of wonder. Of course, you had eventually realised who he was. It had been all over the news. 
The Winter Soldier. 
How could you not know him after every newspaper in town had his face plastered on their front page? And yet he had been a stranger to you until the last second. 
Whatever choices he had made, they had led him here and they had led him to follow you. If you could trust any of the newspaper articles you had read about him recently, he was now one of the good guys and that meant he was out to get you. 
Not that you had committed a horrible crime, but you had given other people the supplies to commit theirs. Enough of an offence to have the former Winter Soldier on your tail. 
You knew he would not interrupt your conversation. He was waiting for the right moment to speak to you and that moment would have to be one between just you and him. You decided to give him the chance to since his eyes seemed to burn holes into your back. With an apologetic smile, you excused yourself to the toilet. 
Moving through the couples standing in your way, you briefly glanced back over your shoulder. He was following you, a stern expression on his face. You had only smile him a few times and those never seemed to reach his eyes in the slightest. There had been a deep sadness about the man you had met in Romania and you wondered if it was still there. 
You closed the door to the restroom behind you, but it opened again just a moment later. 
There was a tzzzz sound and you knew Bucky had used some sort of device to lock the door behind himself. After engaging in weapon trade for a few years, you had become familiar with different methods to remain undisturbed for important conversations. As you stood in front of the mirror, you did not look at him at first. 
His presence alone sent a shiver down your spine. 
Had he thought of you these past years? Had he remembered you in a positive way? 
Bucky had stayed with you even days after his departure from Romania. The memory of his touch had been with you during a shower, during the boring commute to your job and most importantly, during nights facing the moon in an attempt to feel the same way you did for those short weekends. 
His eyes continued to linger on you. He was almost frozen in place even though you did not even give him a glance again. Bucky wanted to tilt your head to the side, run his lips over the familiar skin of your neck and make you shiver in his arms as he had done before. You were right there, a temptation he should avoid. 
He was on a mission. He was not here to reconcile with an old acquaintance and he was definitely not here to indulge any of his own desires. No matter how tight his throat started to feel and how his body seemed to protest his every thought. After all, Bucky had felt alive with you. After so many years of living on auto-pilot, those nights with you had brought him back to this world a little. 
Bucky flexed his left hand. How was he supposed to initiate this conversation? 
I am here to arrest you. I need to know more about the people you’re supplying to…
Why are you wearing this dress? I can’t stop looking at you. 
Neither of these options would work. 
His steps echoed through the empty bathroom once he approached. His reflection appeared in the mirror, close to yours and you searched for his gaze until your eyes met. Maybe you had just imagined it, but Bucky’s expression seemed to soften for just a moment. 
His posture gave him away though. He was tense, metal hand curled into a fist by his side. A smirk appeared on your own lips. His eyes drifted down your neck, to your collarbones and eventually to your cleavage. Of course, he was looking at you. The dress was a nice one, showing just enough to tempt any man. 
Bucky had never been able to forget any detail about you. Having you right in front of him brought all the desire he previously felt right back. 
“It’s good to see you, Bucky.” 
He had never heard you say his name before. Back then, it had always been a different one, but it now sent a shiver down his spine. 
“It’s good to see you too.” 
You were not oblivious to the looks he was giving you. It seemed like your body was tempting him just as it had done years ago. Would it get you out of this situation? 
His suit looked good on him too. You had never seen him in formal clothing before, but it brought out the best in him. His eyes were still the same piercing blue as you remembered. Even though your weekends together had not been of the strictly romantic kind, you had spend hours upon hours gazing into his eyes and trying to make sense of the man in front of you. 
Bucky had always remained a mystery to you until your ways had eventually parted. 
“Have all these years taken your ability to talk to me?” You asked with a wicked smile, turning around to him fully as you leaned against the sink behind you. You could watch his gaze briefly turn towards your exposed knee, then flicker back to your face. 
“Not at all. I am here to talk to you about your job.” So you had been right. Bucky was here to talk to you about your trade, but if you were quite honest, you were not in the mood to talk about it at all. 
“Do we really have to talk about that? You haven’t seen me in years.” You stepped closer to him, taking a moment to appreciate the beard on his face and the curve of his lips. He looked healthier than the last time you saw him – stronger, even. Would his lips still feel good on yours? Would his hands know exactly where to touch you? 
Could he make you come undone like he had done so many times before? 
“No, we do not.” His voice had grown rougher, his gaze darkened just a little. 
Bucky could smell your perfume. It seemed to envelop him entirely, dulling all his thoughts until there was only you. 
You and your pretty dress. You and your tempting lips and a body he wanted to lose himself in. 
His mission was on the line. Could he allow himself to fail it? Return home with empty hands? Just because his hands wanted to be all over you. Bucky wanted to run his fingers over your exposed knee, let his hand wander up and up until he’d reach the wet folds between your legs. Would you still taste the very same there? 
“I did not expect to meet you again like-”
Bucky’s finger found your lips and stopped your words altogether. You blinked up at him, once, twice, through long lashes and he knew he was a doomed man this evening. 
“Quiet,” he whispered. While his right index finger rested on your lips, his left hand slid up your arm. The metal was cool against your skin, a familiar sensation you had dreamed about many times in the past years. 
“Just be quiet.” He leaned down to your ear, his lips grazing your skin ever so slightly. “You look lovely in this dress.” A soft kiss planted at the spot between your ear and your jaw. Enough to send a shiver down your spine. You pulled your arm away to grab his hand, planting it on your waist instead. 
Bucky took his finger away from your lips and looked at you, desire burning in his eyes. His pants were getting tighter the more he thought about your naked body and the promise of maybe exploring it once more. Even if this would be a short-lived moment, he wanted to cherish it. When would he ever get the chance to touch you again? 
You wanted to kiss him, you wanted to give your body to him, even if it was just for one evening. 
Pulling him just a little closer, you pressed your lips against his. Bucky’s hands firmly grabbed your waist, pressing you up against him. You could feel his arousal hard against your leg and it brought a smirk to your lips. He wanted you just as much as you wanted him. 
It was easy for him to lift you up onto the sink and part your thighs enough to stand between them. Bucky’s hands roamed your body, starting at your hips and running his big hands up your back. Your own began to wander to his shirt, opening it button for button, just to see his trained chest peak through. 
His tongue parted your lips, the kiss growing more hungry by the second. He felt like a man starved and you were the only one able to quench his thirst. 
“Need to fuck you in this dress.” His words were a low mumble against your lips, but still enough to make your panties almost feel soaked. Your pussy clenched around nothing, another sign that you needed him just as much. 
“Please do,” you whispered, already feeling out of breath when you briefly parted from each other. Bucky’s hands moved underneath your dress, squeezing the bare skin of your thighs, hands inching further to the inside. 
He wanted to savour this moment. Once you two left the restroom again, life would continue. For now, it could stay exactly like this. 
“Lift your hips for me, doll.” 
There it was. Doll. A familiar endearment from his lips and you were quite happy to oblige. Pushing yourself off the counter for a moment, Bucky hooked his fingers into the sides of your panties and pulled them down your legs. He pushed them into the back pockets of his pants, before kneeling down on the ground in front in you. 
His lips were laced with a wicked smirk after he wet his lips with his tongue. “Spread your legs for me.” 
Once your thighs had parted for him, you leaned back against the mirror behind you, the cool glass against the back of your head. Bucky’s warm breath on your most sensitive spot caused goosebumps to spread over your entire body. 
“Already so wet for me. Did you lure me here on purpose?” Even though you couldn’t see his smile, you could hear it in his voice. 
Whatever words you wanted to reply got stuck in your throat once Bucky’s lips wrapped around your clit. He sucked on it softly, his metal hand travelling closer to where you needed him the most. As his middle finger slid between your wet folds, you pushed your hips against his hand, eager for more. 
“Oh shit,” you cursed under your breath. The cold sensation of his metal digit inside you left you gasping with every new curl of his finger. Bucky continued to alternate between sucking on your sensitive nub and flicking his tongue against it. 
He knew how to work your body and he wanted to see you explode in front of him. Your taste on his tongue was enough to keep him satisfied for days. Once he added another finger, filling your pussy so tightly, you pressed your left hand down on your mouth to prevent your moans to slip past your lips. 
Your right hand found its way into Bucky’s hair, pressing him just a little closer to your middle. The tension in your abdomen became more and more, your walls quivering around his fingers. With every stroke of his fingers inside you, with every expertly placed flick of his tongue, he brought you closer to a climax and he could tell. 
Bucky felt your walls clench around his hand, your thighs shaking around his head. A deep groan escaped him. It was enough to sent vibrations through your core, your squeal only being muted by your own hand around your mouth. 
“Come for me, darling.” You wanted to obey his wishes and with one more roll of your hips and a flick of Bucky’s tongue against your clit, your orgasm rolled over you. Your hand pulled harder on his hair as you tried to keep as quiet as possible. Bucky loved the feeling of your thighs closing around his head, almost threatening to smother him in-between. 
When he stood back up once your climax had worn off, he licked over his lips slowly. You barely had time to catch your breath when he pulled you right back into his arms, erection pressing against your thigh as you could taste yourself on his tongue. Bucky’s kiss was eager and hungry, his metal hand sneaking up the back of your neck. 
“Can you taste yourself on my tongue?” His words were a mumble against your mouth, almost being drowned out by another kiss. Bucky’s eyes were wide with lust, his hand manoeuvring your neck to the side, so he could run his tongue up your neck. Another moan slipped past your lips, your body eagerly pressing into his. You wanted to savour each of his touches and stop time. 
You nodded in reply, feeling the rough brush of his beard against your jawline. It was enough to make you shiver, enough to want even more of him. 
“Talk to me,” he urged you, his mouth right next to your ear. 
“Yes, I can.”
Your voice was trembling, your hands fumbling to get a hold of his cheeks. When you cupped his cheeks, you turned his face towards you. Bucky’s cheeks had turned a soft red colour and his hips were slightly rolling against your leg. He needed the relief as much as you had. 
“I need you.” 
Bucky didn’t need to hear more than that. You helped him open his pants and slide them down, his boxers soon following. In an attempt to relieve some of the need between your legs, you squeezed them together, but Bucky quickly pulled them apart once more. 
“Need to be inside you,” he mumbled against your neck. Your hands moved to his back, legs wrapping around his hips and Bucky grabbed the underside of your thighs to position you properly. His tip brushed past your folds, eliciting a soft gasp from you. Bucky had always filled you out so nicely and you couldn’t wait to feel it again. 
When he pushed inside, you leaned your head back against the mirror behind you. Bucky let out a soft groan, closing his eyes to savour the feeling. Your walls were still so very tight around him, fitting perfectly around his cock. His first thrust was slow, but it filled you out all the same. 
Your fingers attempted to get a hold of his shirt as he leaned down and softly sucked on the soft skin at your throat. “Fuck,” you groaned, pushing your hips up to feel him even deeper. Every thrust sent another wave of pleasure through you, your body rocking in sync with his even when his thrusts grew more rapid. 
Bucky’s fingers dug into the soft skin around your hips, holding you in place as started to chase his own high. The knot in your abdomen got tighter and tighter. 
He groaned into your shoulder, face pressed against your skin, his hot breath leaving goosebumps spread over your entire body. “Shit,” you cursed again, feeling yourself getting so close to that sweet high – once again. 
Before you could reach your sweet relief, Bucky pulled out again, leaving your cunt empty and leaking. A puzzled expression appeared in your face, but you soon knew what his plan was. In one swift movement, Bucky had you off the counter and turned around, seeing your own flushed face in the mirror. 
Bucky entered you once more, this time with one hard thrust. It was already enough to send you over the edge, but his thrusts kept going. Your pussy was spasming around him, legs trembling as your orgasm just kept going. Bucky’s metal hand pressed down on your mouth to silence your moans as he kept the ruthless pace up, hitting your sensitive spot over and over again. 
The pleasure was too much, your thighs trying to squeeze together and your hands holding tightly onto the counter. His grunts of pleasure filled your ear and his eyes searched for yours in the mirror. Once your gazes met, his teeth scraped against your earlobe, his thrusts growing almost erratic. Bucky was so close too, so close to spending himself inside you. 
“Going to fill you up, doll,” he groaned and as you pushed your hips back again, walls squeezing his cock so deliciously, it finally tipped him over the edge. His low moan sounded in your ear and his face was distorted with lust. The sight alone gave you one final push to reach your next high, one hand desperately holding onto Bucky’s strong forearm. 
He held you in place as ropes of cum painted your insides white, his cock still pulsing inside you. Bucky wanted to hold you like this forever, as close as humanly possible, and never let go again. 
Soft kisses were planted on your shoulder, his beard scraping along your soft skin, leaving a slight redness behind. His lips wandered over to your pulse point, making you whimper as you pressed yourself back into his chest. 
“I’ve missed you.”
His words were unexpected, but you cherished them all the same. You had missed him too – more than you often liked to admit. 
“I missed you too.” 
There were still so many things to discuss between you, but Bucky was pretty sure that those could wait for another moment longer. That dress had already distracted him more than enough, but he wished to remember every little detail of you wearing it. That would take time. 
It definitely looked like time had stopped for the both of you, even if it was just for tonight. 
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majestyeverlasting · 2 months ago
Note
Nello! I have a request/suggestion for a Bucky drabble-y something if you'd like it. Maybe he's on a mission or there's an attack and it's going *very* poorly for him but he gets saved by a sweet civilian who's probably hopped up on a LOT of adrenaline
𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐲 | 𝐛.𝐛.
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A/N Thank you so much for this request, anon! Bucky isn’t on a mission, per se, more like he ends up making a certain situation his “mission.” 
Pairing Bucky Barnes x Reader 
Summary After an unexpected and intense fight, you’re the kind stranger who comes to Bucky’s aid. Except, you can’t shake the pressing feeling that you’ve seen each other once before. [fluff, angst, firing of a weapon, 2.6k]
₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
Darkness hangs over Hell’s Kitchen as the heavy beat of Bucky’s heart drums on. The high-pitched ringing in his ears nearly drowns out the trudge of his boots against the sidewalk. Each labored step sends another wave of pain radiating through his ribcage. By now, he’s far enough away from Nicolo’s Bistro to be seen, where police and ambulances are finally pulling up with glaring halos of red and blue, sirens wailing. 
As Bucky turns into a dingy alleyway, he finally allows himself to release the pathetic grunts that have been attempting to claw out of throat since the moment he left the establishment. The pungent smell of garbage rides on the breeze as he presses his back up against the cool brick wall, sliding down until he hits the pebbled ground. 
He can’t remember the last time being off his feet felt so good. That’s all he’d wanted upon entering the bistro earlier. To sit down and have a meal before venturing back to Brooklyn. 
𝟷 𝙷𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙿𝚁𝙸𝙾𝚁
The table he’s given along the front windows gives sight to the evening bustle outside. There’s a dim ambience to that place that’s homey and charming. Basil and garlic linger in the air. A waitress with a long jet-black ponytail takes his order of carbonara and the house red. Just as she leaves, three men in fedoras enter, with hard eyes and strong noses. 
A wary feeling flutters in his gut. 
Rather than being seated in the main dining room, they’re escorted into the back by a worker. Nicolo, the broad-shouldered owner of the restaurant, is no sooner notified of their arrival. The look of dread that washes over his face is Bucky’s second clue that something is amiss. But there’s an eerie calm that follows.
Halfway into his meal, hushed, angry voices finally emit from the back room. The only reason Bucky can hear them is the serum’s heightening of his senses: 
Nicolo’s voice registers first, “Sobrini, please, there’s been a misunderstanding.”
“No, it’s well past time,” comes a gruff, thickly accented voice. “I invested in this shithole and haven’t seen anywhere near what I’m owed.” 
“It’s coming—please, there has to be a better way,” Nicolo reasons. “There are customers out there.”
“Too bad I don’t give a fuck.” 
That’s when a lone warning shot rings out. 
A few patrons jolt in shock, heads whipping around. You startle as you take a sip from your bubbling glass of champagne, sending the liquid running down your chin.
Bucky's on his feet in an instant, “Everybody out!” 
The moment you slip out of your booth, the confrontation spills out into the main dining area as Nicolo backs out of the room with his hands held up in surrender. All three men are stalking towards him, and the bulkier one—undeniably Sobrini—has a revolver drawn. 
“Now they all get to see your brains being blown out,” he quips.
 Bucky wastes no time rushing to the owner's defense, sprinting over to Sobrini, and using his vibranium hand to block a bullet when he pulls the trigger. Nicolo's face flushes with relief as he gratefully runs for the door, steering other frantic patrons out along the way. 
With Nicolo gone, the group of mobsters redirect their anger to Bucky and his daring boldness. 
“And who the hell are you?” Before Sobrini can pull the trigger again, Bucky disarms him with a few swift swipes and blows, bending the gun out of shape before letting it clink to the ground. 
“Mikey, Vinny!” Sobrini growls. 
Like two mad dogs given attack orders, the other men launch forward to gang up on Bucky. They’re stronger than he’s expecting—too strong. Super soldiers. Glasses and plates crash from the tables as Vinny, the taller of the two, kicks Bucky square in the stomach, sending him staggering backwards. He’s quick to recover, promptly delivering his own series of strikes in retaliation. 
Heart hammering in your ears, you help usher the last of the patrons and employees outside. When you dare to look back in, Mikey has managed to get Bucky in a chokehold from behind. Only then do you notice the glint of his vibranium hand as he pries at the man’s thick forearm.
As Bucky coughs for air, realization dawns on you like a rushing tide. For a flicker of a second, he catches your eyes in the doorway before managing to free himself from the hold.
A second wind finds him as the brawl becomes a fierce three-on-one ordeal.
Nicolo pulls you away from the door for your own safety.
It’d been two years since Bucky’s last fight, and he hated that this made a part of him feel alive again. 
𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝚃𝙾 𝙿𝚁𝙴𝚂𝙴𝙽𝚃
Just as his eyes begin to flutter closed with exertion, he hears a soft, urgent voice that he thinks he’s imagining. It prompts him to remember that he’s seated in a dirty alleyway, propped against a wall. 
“Are you alright?” Your eyes dart over his bruised face, split lip, and bloodied knuckles. “Don’t close your eyes, stay with me.” You gently pat your hand against his stubbled cheek. Some of his long, dark hair is matted to the sweat on his face.
The only reason you knew where to find him is because you’d watched him stagger from the scene after neutralizing the three intruders in a feat of athleticism if you ever saw one. Your own hands are still buzzing with adrenaline. 
He manages to meet your gaze, but his bloodshot blue eyes never focus. You can see that he’s trying, which only makes concern swell in your chest all the more. 
“You need to go to the ER,” you say, brows furrowing. That seems to shake him a bit. 
“No…” he trails off, then coughs, wincing. “No doctors. Please.” 
You pull your lower lip in between your teeth as if debating to heed his request. Looking out to the street, you see that nobody has taken notice of the two of you.
You then say, “Can you walk? My place isn’t far.”
•••
Climbing the stairs is the hardest part. Despite your offer to lean his weight on you, Bucky stubbornly relies on the railing for all four floors. By the time you unlock your apartment door and usher him inside, he realizes he’s made a mistake. He should’ve insisted he’d be fine, that after the initial shock wore off, his body would begin to mend itself back to wholeness.
Except, he can’t remember the last time someone had spoken to him so sweetly. 
As selfish as it was, it felt good to be on the receiving end of genuine concern. Nowadays, people just assumed he was okay because he was the Winter Soldier, and that’s what the Winter Soldier was supposed to do—dust himself off and get back up. Yet here you were acting like he was someone worth being taken care of.
He all but collapses onto the couch once you lead him over to it. In the back of his mind, he worries about getting it dirty, but you don’t seem to care as you flutter out of the living room.
The air smells faintly of cinnamon and vanilla, and small decorative pumpkins sit on the windowsill. Pain pulses in his neck as he takes a better look around, but he does it anyway. The entire space is modest and cozy, clearly lived-in and well-loved. 
By the time you come back, he’s dozed off, thick thighs spread and chin tucked down to his chest. This happens sometimes—his body crashes into sleep to facilitate healing. It only occurs when he feels safe. Otherwise, the rush of adrenaline keeps him wide awake. 
He can just barely register the gentleness of your movements as you tilt his head up to dab away the blood with a cool towel. You continue on like that, cleaning up the wounds that broke the skin, which thankfully aren’t too plentiful. Occasionally, his eyes flutter open, but you never ask him any questions or force him to talk. A comfortable silence settles between you until all the dried blood is gone.  
An hour later, he wakes up, finding that he’s stretched along the entirety of the couch with a blanket draped over his frame. His pain has subsided immensely. As he sits upright, he notices that you’re curled up in the accent chair. A special news report drones low on the TV.
“All the men have been taken into custody,” you tell him. Bucky eyes flitter over your face as you speak, realizing that his mind is finally clear enough to welcome the whispers of recognition. 
He’d seen many people over the course of his long life, and your face was among those he’d never be able to forget. 
You continue as his heart rises into his throat, “They don’t know it was you who saved everyone,” you say, toying with the hem of your sweater. “If they do, they haven’t said your name.” 
The air goes dead silent for a fleeting moment.
“You know my name?” It’s a question he already knows the answer to. 
You study his face, handsome even with the bruises. “James Buchanan Barnes, the Asset, the Winter Soldier…” 
He swallows thickly, abruptly standing to his feet as guilt and shame churn in his stomach. “Thank you for your help, but—” 
“Please don’t go,” you insist. It feels like you’re staring straight through him.  
“I have to. I’m sorry.” He weaves towards the door, heat rising to his cheeks. 
The events of an afternoon from many moons ago come rushing into the forefront of his mind. First, a group of suited men barking orders as he listened with emotionless eyes. Then the glint of his metal arm wrapped around the neck of a S.H.I.E.L.D. contractor on Park Avenue. As the man strangled out pleas, your cries joined in, begging for the life of your friend to be spared—
Bucky thinks back to earlier when he was being choked, the sense of helplessness.
You stand from the chair but don’t follow after him. “Did you want to take a shower at least?” you offer, hope infused into your words. It only made sense considering the sweat and grime still lingering on his skin. 
The thought of a shower sounds too good. But not here, not now. He never should’ve come. 
—As the contractor had gripped at his Bucky’s arm for mercy, he remembered glaring over at you. The mask concealing the lower half of his face hid his snarl, but his glare could cut stone. Except, you weren’t made of stone. You were skin, and bone, and desperation. It ended up being your fear-ridden eyes that did all the cutting.
It was as if you were wordlessly pleading, please, you don’t have to do this. Like you could see that he was trapped inside the prison of his own being. 
But by the time his hold went slack around the man’s neck, it was already too late. His body slumped lifelessly to the ground. 
“I forgive you," you call out right as Bucky steps into the hallway and is seconds away from closing the door.
That stops him in his tracks and sends a chill through his bones.
“Please don’t go,” you say, much softer. 
•••
Tucked away in an old journal, was a list of amends Bucky was supposed to make. He’d managed to cross off all those names. But there’s no way he’d ever be able to account for every life he changed, every friend and family member he snatched away from people he would never even come to know.
This reality weighs heavy on him as he stands in the steamy bathroom, a towel wrapped low around his hips. Sometimes he didn’t recognize himself when he looked in the mirror. Faint knocking sounds at the door.
He clears the thickness from his throat, “Yes?”
“Special delivery,” you say lightly. “My neighbor had some clothes to spare.”
When he opens the door, your eyes flick to his torso, the bruising along his ribcage. There’s a dusting of hair on his chest, and a line of it that leads down from his bellybutton. It takes a second for you to register that he isn’t wearing his vibranium arm. Maybe it's because of the steady, broad way he’s standing there as if the limb isn’t gone at all.
He accepts the clothes, “Thank you.”
Bucky doesn’t close the door as he turns to set them on the sink. In the process, you notice there are old scars on his back with dark new bruises mixed amongst them. Before you can stop yourself, you step forward, brushing over his shoulder blades with tentative fingers. He straightens, briefly closing his eyes at the tenderness. 
“Sorry. I’m sorry.” You begin to back out of the room. “I have painkillers if they’d help.”
Bucky shakes his head. “I’m alright.”
“I’ll let you get dressed then.”
Moments later, Bucky finds you in your room seated on the side of your bed. Your startle, swiping at the tears beneath your eyes before turning to look at him. When he sees that you’ve been crying, he feels like the worst person in the world again, an awful feeling resettling in his gut. 
“I can go,” he says. 
You shake your head and pat the space beside you. 
Bucky lingers in the doorway until giving in. The mattress dips as he sits, making sure to leave ample space between you. Even then you can feel the warmth of his proximity, smell your body wash on his skin. Neither of you say anything for a while. 
“Why are you doing all this?” For such an imposing man, his voice comes out small. 
“Because I see you.” Bucky swallows at your words, gaze remaining on the floor. “I saw you eight years ago, and I see you now.” 
He realizes then, that if he truly wanted to, he would’ve left already. He didn’t know what he wanted, what more he was expecting. He’d already taken enough—your friend, your resources, your time. 
“You know what I believe?” Bucky waits for you to continue. “That you’re a good person,” you say solemnly. 
“You didn’t even hesitate back at Nicolo’s. You stepped right up.”
“It was nothing,” he lightly dismisses.
“Nothing?” 
Bucky looks over at you, and you raise your brows. “It was the right thing to do,” he finally says. 
“And you easily could’ve just walked away.” 
He gets your point then. The plates of his arm whir softly. 
“I was angry at you for a long time,” you admit. “Even though I knew who you were, the control you were under.”
“I’m sorry—”
“And the more time that passed, the more I realized my anger wasn’t entirely fair,” you say. “Life’s not fair. But staying rooted to the same spot doesn’t do anyone any good.” 
Bucky doesn’t pull away when you reach over and take his hand in yours, gently running your fingers over his bruised knuckles in a mix of sympathy and wonder. He watches as you flip his palm face-up, tracing the lines with a delicate touch. He feels it all the way up his arm, the gesture painfully intimate. Having seen each other at your lowest, most vulnerable moments has a way of knocking down walls. 
“Ask me why I’m doing all this again,” you say.
Bucky meets your gaze. “Why?”
“Because it’s the right thing to do.”
Outside, distant sirens wail into the Manhattan night.
-
Thank you so much for reading! Feel free to let me know what you think. 
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wwilsonbarness · 1 year ago
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i messed up...
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pairings:  bucky barnes x pregnant!reader
summary: you go against what you and bucky agreed, how will he react?
warnings: angst, pregnant reader, asshole bucky, none more i think?
word count: 1219
a/n: Bucky's a major ass in this but i have part two started if anyone is interested :)
Feedback, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :) 
I do not give permission for my work to be copied, reposted or translated on any other platform.
part 2
masterlist
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You didn’t mean to mess up this bad, you just wanted a normal day, a day where you could leave the tower alone without an Avenger there to protect you. 
You knew what you signed up for when you and Bucky became official. He had told you so many times that being with him put you at risk but you didn’t care, you loved him too much to be without him. He had insisted that since that day you would have someone there to protect you at all times, you knew it was in a loving way it was a lot to handle, and ever since you and Bucky discovered you were pregnant it had only gotten more intense. You knew it was for the better but it was suffocating you, which is why you went to the store alone this morning. It wasn’t far from the tower and you would be back within the hour, surely nothing could happen in that time?
On your walk home your phone started to buzz, and not just once but it kept buzzing until you opened the chat and the messages started loading in. They were from Sam, the first was a picture of you, from just 15 minutes earlier, you were reaching up to the top shelf in the store and your shirt had risen up, making your bump slightly more visible. How someone noticed that you have no idea. The rest of the text messages were fairly calm but the last one made you panic.
Sam
where are you? let me know you’re okay please Y/n are you safe?  He doesn’t know yet. 
Shit. Bucky was going to be furious at you, he had told you so many times not to go out alone because of this very reason. Now everyone was going to know that you and Bucky had a baby coming. You and Bucky had both agreed that you would keep your pregnancy between as few people as possible, for the baby’s safety and now you’ve compromised that. Only the other Avengers, your family and a couple of friends knew about it. 
Unintentionally you slowed your pace for the rest of your walk, sending Sam a quick text to let him know you were safe and on your way back.  You were scared to face Bucky but at least you could tell him yourself before he found out online or by Sam. 
It doesn’t take long even with your slow pace to get back, you hesitantly push the button for your floor, mentally preparing yourself for facing Bucky. He had been especially insistent on keeping your baby away from the public because of his long list of enemies and being a part of the Avengers meant that list was forever growing. 
When the lift dings and the doors open you pause for a second before stepping out, first you check yours and Bucky’s bedroom but it’s empty so you head for the common room. When you walk in Bucky’s there, as well as Sam, Tony, Natasha and Steve. At first glance things look normal, and no one notices you walking in until you speak. “Hi..”
That’s when Bucky turns around, his jaw was clenched together, brows furrowed, anger practically seeping out of him. He knew. You want to apologise but you can’t manage to get any words out. A few seconds pass before Nat’s voice breaks the silence. “Are you okay Y/n?” You nod towards her, fidgeting with your fingers trying to distract yourself from the shouting match you knew was about to begin. You’d seen Bucky angry before but never this much and never because of you. 
“Bucky, I’m so-“ You couldn’t finish your sentence before he interrupted you 
“Did you not listen to anything I said to you? Did you really just ignore everything? I told you this would happen but what? You just did it anyway?“ 
“Buc-“ He wouldn’t listen, his words were spilling out of him. He didn’t even know what he was really saying. He was just so scared and angry at himself for not protecting you and your baby. 
“You’ve seen what the people we deal with can do and you still acted like a complete idiot.” You could hear muffled sounds of Sam and Nat trying to stop him from going any further but all you could focus on was Bucky’s words.  
“No. How could you make such a careless mistake?” 
Your eyes were growing wetter with each word he said but you tried to keep yourself composed. You didn’t feel as if you had any right to be upset, you were the one who messed up. 
“I wasn’t trying to..” You attempt to interrupt him and defend yourself but at this point you knew that was pointless. 
“I mean seriously,” He pauses for a moment, contemplating his next words, “it’s like you don’t care about our baby at all.”
Oh. That one hurt. He had to know you cared right? Your baby was everything to you. Could he really think you didn’t care?
Tony had stayed quiet up until now. “Enough James!” He screeched from behind Bucky, “I won’t let you talk to Y/n like that, either calm down or leave my tower.” 
You knew he was going to be angry at you but you were not prepared for this much of it. Bucky stares at you for a few seconds before he walks out, dropping his head down to your stomach and scoffing as he does so. Now it wasn’t just anger you felt from him, it was disappointment too. 
You can’t bring yourself to move from the spot you’ve been standing in since you arrived, the only thing breaking you out of your trance was someone’s hand on your shoulder. You weren’t sure who until they spoke. “Y/n? Are you alright?” 
It was Sam, you manage to turn to him and stutter out, “I‘m sorry.” 
“It’s okay.” He brings his hand up to your head and pulls you gently towards him for a much needed hug. “He’s not angry with you, he’s just scared. It’s gonna be okay.” 
“I just wanted to do something for myself, I don’t want to have to rely on an Avenger everytime I want to go to the store.” 
“I know, he shouldn’t have gotten angry like that. I’m not making any excuses for him but he’s never felt love like he does for you. You and this baby are everything to him, he’s scared to lose you.” 
“Do you think he’ll forgive me?” Your voice is quiet, almost too quiet but Sam can just hear you.
“I know he will, he just needs some time to cool down.” You nod your head against Sam’s chest, part of you knew Bucky would forgive you but an even bigger part of you believed you had messed up too bad. 
You reach into your bag and take out the small white teddy you bought, when you read the words printed on its tiny outfit you start to cry harder. It read, “Best Dad Ever”, you just hoped Bucky would forgive you so you could give it to him. 
If you could go back to this morning and change your decision you would. You just want things back the way they were. 
2K notes · View notes
buck-star · 8 months ago
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His name, his property | Steve Kemp
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// Pairing //
-> Dark!Steve Kemp x Female!Reader
// Summary //
-> After letting you out of the basement Steve makes sure that you and everyone else knows who you belong to. His name written on your skin is a good option, isn't it?
// Wordcount //
-> 4.085 Words
// Warnings // Explicit Content
-> 18+, Minors DNI, dark content, kidnapping, hint of stalking, non-con tattoo, mention of cannibalism, Stockholm syndrome, non-con kissing, choking, finger sucking, masturbation, handjob, mention of oral (fem!receiving) and unprotected p in v
// Request //
-> I’ve really been craving a marking kink piece lately and I love your writing. Can you write a Steve kemp smut where he kidnaps the reader and wants to claim her as his so he tattoos his name on her lower back (tramp stamp) and when he sees the finished product he can’t help but cum all over her face
// Authors Note //
-> First of all thank you for the request and the feedback. Hope you like the request and it’s what you thought about.
-> I want to thank @bucks-babe for encouraging me and the comments, proofreading.🩷🩷
// Events //
-> Fandom-Free Bingo: Book Night Edition | G3 | “BEG for it!” | @fandom-free-bingo
// Masterlist | Steve Kemp Masterlist //
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You don’t know what happened last night, the only thing you can remember is the party you were at last night. Usually you don’t drink much, so you really wonder why you can’t remember how you came to this place and got undressed. The warm blanket covering your body stops the cold from the room to surround you and you sigh softly, frowning when you turn your head to find out where you are. Maybe you hooked up with one of these guys at the party? But why is the room so cold and dark, and where is whoever you hooked up with?
The creaking sound of the door lets your gaze wander, and a moment later you have to shut your eyes. A bright light is shining into the dark room, and a big, broad man walks into the room. He closes the door and turns on the light, letting himself fall down on a chair opposite you.
“Glad you’re finally awake; I thought you would sleep a day more. Maybe I gave you a bit too many drugs; aren't you used to them, huh?” The man chuckles darkly, and you don't feel comfortable anymore. You open your eyes slowly to get used to the light before you turn your head to face him, and your jaw drops. “Looks like you remember me, love?”
You nod your head, closing your mouth, and try to sit up when you feel something around your arm. Your gaze immediately shoots to the chains that are around your arm, and you gasp. “W—Please let me go. I can give you money; do you want money?”
“Babe, does that basement look like I need money? You have your very own toilet and look at the beautiful sunrise, or do you want to call it a sunset? However, doesn’t it look pretty?” He asks, smirking at you, and you shake your head. Panic is growing in your body, and you inhale deeply, covering your face with your hands before you look back at the man.
“C—Can you please take these handcuffs off and we can talk?” You ask, and you breathe, shaking while you feel tears building up in your eyes.
“We can talk, but I won't take them off. Maybe when you're good, are you good?” The man smirks at you; his legs are spread, and he leans forward, placing his forearms on top of his thighs while he stares at you with such an intense gaze.
“What do you want then? Can you please let me go?” With every passing second, your breathing gets heavier, and your body starts to tremble. You definitely haven't planned to go to a party and be drugged to get kidnapped by such a psycho guy.
“I'm gonna tell you, but you will freak out. Just please don't freak out, oke?” The brown-haired man says with a nice smirk, and you’re not sure if you should be even more scared or less now, but something inside of you is enough to just scream and run — even though that isn't working with handcuffs around your wrist. "Remember, I told you I'm a doctor-”
And suddenly, you remember what happened in the evening. This nice guy, Steve, sat next to you at the bar, asking you if you wanted a drink as well. Since you two had a lot of fun then — laughing and talking about everything and nothing — he asked you to come with him to a more private corner of the bar. When you agreed, you had another drink, and then everything was dizzy. The next thing you can remember is waking up in the dark room — obviously his basement.
“Usually I would sell your meat; it brings a lot of money, and it is delicious— Calm down, love, I said usually. But I love you, babe,” he says, grinning while he gets up from the chair. His hands slide down his sweater, and he takes a step closer. “So when you do what I say, we are going to have a family, and I will give you my kids. Oh, they will be wonderful, won’t they? And we will be happy. When you don’t do what I say, I’m gonna punish you.”
“You’re fucking insane! I don’t want to have your kids, and I won't do what you want!” You shoot, crawling backwards, when he takes another step forward. “Stay there! Steve, please! Stay where you are! Don’t dare to step closer— please. Steve, please don’t come closer!” You say it through gritted teeth, but he only chuckles at your attempt to crawl away until you crash against the wall behind you.
Steve gets on his knees when he is just a few inches away from you. You already plan how to bite or kick him when he is taking another step closer, but he stays where he is and just looks at you with a soft smile.
“Listen, I’m the one who is in charge, so you better accept it. Like I said, when you don’t do what I say, I’m gonna punish you. Do you want me to punish you, babe? Sore, red ass, huh?” Even though he kind of scares you, when he reaches out to brush a strand of hair out of your face, you feel like there is no fear left in your body.
“I will cut off your dick or—" You get interrupted when your head flies to the side and your cheek burns. Steve just grasps your chin, stopping you from turning your face away while tears form in your eyes and fall slowly down your cheeks. His smile is so soft, and his beautiful blue eyes show nothing but comfort, but he just hit you. Your feelings go crazy, and the way he looks at you and the way his soft fingers hold your chin don’t help with your feelings.
You sob quietly, while he captures your cheeks with both of his hands and wipes your tears softly with his thumbs away. “It’s oke, babe. I love you, and you will love me too,” he mumbles, leaning closer to kiss your forehead before he pulls away and looks deep into your eyes.
“Steve—“ you get interrupted once again when he pushes his thumb into your mouth, pushing your tongue down. You gag around his thumb, and it causes more tears to fall down your cheeks. He then pulls his thumb out of your mouth and smirks.
“Shut your mouth unless you beg for my cock or want to tell me that you love me, love,” he says, leaning forward, and this time he captures your lips with his. They are so soft and warm, and he moves them so perfectly against yours that you just want to give in, leaning more into his touch. Steve will get what he wants, even when it takes a bit to tell you that you love him, but you will be his beautiful, cute wife.
He pulls his thumb out of your mouth, smirking when you immediately close your mouth and crawl further back. You whimper, leaning your back against the wall and looking down at your hands. With your fingers, you play with the handcuffs, moving them around your wrist. Steve looks at you the whole time, smiling softly before he gets up.
“Will you always keep me in the basement?” You ask shyly, not looking at him. A low chuckle leaves his lips. Steve turns around and looks at you once again.
“When you tell me you’re good, I will take you upstairs. Are you good?” His voice sounds soft, and when you look up, you see nothing but comfort in his eyes. Steve’s hands are in his pants pockets while he waits for you to answer. You nod, flicking when his eyes darken, and he looks suddenly at you with an angry expression. “Use your words, love.”
“Sorry,” you mumble, wanting to look back down on your hands, but his intense blue eyes hold yours. You just can’t look away; even though he just looked angry, when his gaze softens, you feel a comfortable warmth rushing through your body. “I’ll be good.”
He grins, walking closer to you and getting down on his knees once again. Steve’s blue eyes brighten when you hold your hands up for him to open the handcuffs. He then gets up and holds his hand out for you to place your smaller one in his big one. When you do so, you smile slightly; his hand is so warm and soft.
“Let’s get upstairs and get some food into your belly, huh?” You nod your head, getting up as well. Your legs feel like jelly, and Steve has to catch you so you won’t fall forward. He immediately wraps his hands around your waist, pulling you tight against him, and you can feel his broad chest against your back. You sigh softly until you feel something poking into your lower back, gasping when he thrusts his hips slowly forward to press his growing bulge more against you.
“S—Sorry,” you mumble, not wanting to make the situation awkward, but Steve doesn’t look ashamed at all. He grinds his bulge against you while his grip on your hips tightens. Steve’s fingers dig into your soft skin, and you moan quietly, your cunt dripping when his cock slides up and down your lower back and your ass. He leans down, his lips grazing over your skin. Steve kisses and sucks at your skin before he lets go and takes your hand to lead you upstairs.
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Steve made lunch for the two of you; his eyes were roaming the whole time over your face, and he smirked when you ate the food with a satisfied smile on your face. “You’re pretty when you smile. Know why I feel for you,” he said, causing you to look up at him and blush slightly.
His tongue slid out and across his lips while his eyes suddenly darkened, and he groaned with a huge smirk on his plump lips. “Should make you mine, but first finish lunch, babe.”
Not long after you are placed on your belly on the bed, Steve doesn’t allow you to turn around, and afraid of punishment, you listen to him and just lay there while you listen to him walk through the room.
“Are you gonna be good, babe? Or do I need to handcuff you?” He asks; you can hear him smirking, and your stomach feels like it’s turning around. You inhale deeply, trying to calm yourself down. Maybe he just wants to joke around or something.
“I—I will be good,” you mumble, placing your hands underneath your head so he can’t reach them immediately.
Steve chuckles darkly before he makes his way to the bed. His footsteps are heavy, and your body starts to tremble when his hand slides along your leg, causing goosebumps on your skin. “Gonna show everyone that you belong to me, babe.”
Steve places whatever he has in his hands next to you on the bed and lets himself fall down next to you on the mattress.
“What are you doing?” You ask, turning your head slightly, but Steve is fast and snaps his hand forward, pressing it on the back of your head to turn your head back, pressing it down on the mattress.
“Told you, gonna show everyone that you belong to me,” he says again before he moves and sits on your thighs, causing you to groan. “I’m not that heavy, love.”
You squirm a bit while Steve grasps the hem of your shirt and pushes it up. He reveals your back, his fingers grazing slightly over your skin. “Steve, please—"
“Shut your mouth!” His voice sounds harsh, and you immediately obey, closing your eyes and trying to think of something better than Steve sitting on your thighs.
A cold liquid drops on your warm skin, and you yelp, trying to turn your head around once again, but he still pushes your face into the mattress, so you’re not able to see whatever he is doing right now. He then waves the liquid away, and you’re really not sure what he is doing there.
“Could hurt a bit but will be fine.” Steve mumbles, and your eyes widen. His hand on the back of your hand lets go of you, but you don’t dare turn your head. You inhale deeply; your breath is shaking, especially when you hear him turning on a machine.
He brings it closer to your back, and before you can say something or move away, you feel a sharp pain in your back. You scream and gasp, your skin burns, but he brings the machine over and over again to your skin. “Steve, please. That hurts; don’t do that, please.”
For a brief moment, you just want to turn around and try to get him off of you, but since he sat down on your thighs, you’re kind of frozen, and now, with him making a tattoo on your back, even more.
Tears are building up in your eyes, rolling down your cheeks, and causing a wet spot on the sheets underneath you. Quiet sobs leave your lips while Steve holds you in place and continues with the tattoo. A smirk crosses his lips when the first letter is written down on your lower back. He groans, his dick growing in his pants, when he makes the next letter.
“Gonna cum in my pants when you have my name written on your back, fucking gorgerous,” he moans, thrusting his hips forward for you to feel his bulge pressing against your ass. “Or maybe I jerk off and come all over your face, or your tattoo, fuck, I can’t decide it’s all so hot. My dick is so hard, and my balls are so fucking heavy, filled with so much cum, and I will pump you full with it at some point.”
“Steve, please,” you try, but a sob interrupts you, and Steve just ignores you, continuing to finish the tattoo on your lower back. He groans every now and then, his tongue wetting his lips while his hand is pressing down on your back, and you feel his hips rutting against yours every now and then.
You don’t know how much time passes until he finally turns off the machine. Tears are still falling down your cheeks, but unless you get a few sniffles, you’re quiet. You thought Steve could be soft, and he can, but right now you just feel scared and hurt. Steve places the machine and color to the side and wipes a cold washcloth over your lower back, causing you to flinch.
“Do you want a nice bath with me or do you want to watch a movie? He asks, leaning down to kiss your neck softly. Steve’s lips are so warm and soft against your neck that you want to sigh, but the burning pain in your lower back makes you wiggle to try and move away from him.
“You’re fucking insane! I don’t want a bath with you!” You say it with a shaking voice while he sighs. He then lets go of you and lets you crawl from the bed, pushing your shirt down before you look for the nearest corner.
He looks at you when you sit with your back pressed against the wall, your legs pulled up, and against your chest while you rest your head on your knees and stare at the wall.
“Babe, come here. I’m sorry, oke. But seeing you so often go out with your friends makes me go crazy. And when someone comes over here, they can see that you’re mine. I love you, babe,” he says, his voice soft.
You turn a bit to face him; his steel blue eyes look so soft, and his lips are curled up into the sweetest smile. “How about I make it up to you?”
You narrow; what does he understand when he says he is making it up to you? You shake your head; he just made you a tattoo with his name. But with his question, the anger inside of you grows, and the pain on your skin turns into anger too. With a clenched jaw, you let a small chuckle escape your lips. “Wanna make it up to me?”
He nods his head, getting up from the bed and walking a few steps closer. You immediately press yourself more into the corner. Steve sighs before he gets on his knees and reaches his hand out for you to grab or for him to touch you. “Yes, let me make you feel good.”
“Making me feel good — maybe with another tattoo? Or do you want to make it up, and I can make a tattoo on your fucking dick?” You ask with a low chuckle.
Steve’s jaw clenches, and he grasps your arm harshly, pulling you off the floor and back to the bed. “Can’t fucking appreciate it, can you? Just made you mine, or else someone else would have fucked you. Are you such a whore that you want someone else to fuck you?”
“I would prefer everyone in that city instead of letting you fuck me!” You shoot at him, trying to wiggle out of his tight grip, but he turns the two of you around and takes a seat on the bed while he pushes you onto the ground in front of him.
“Would you?” Steve’s voice is calm, and it causes you to shiver. His blue eyes are darkened; he grips your neck and squeezes lightly. You nod your head, trying to ignore the tight grip of his hand around your throat. “Then you can start to show me that you can be a good girl.”
“Thought you wanna make me feel good?” You ask, looking through your lashes and trying to grin. But his hand is squeezing even more, and you feel yourself panicking when he just doesn’t want to let go of your neck. “I’m sorry, p—please.”
“Good girl, beg Daddy to let go of your neck. Fuck— could look at you sitting between my legs all the time, begging for me. Sit still!” He demands, his fingers letting go of your neck, and he brings them to your cheek, his thumb slipping over your lips before he pushes his digit into your mouth. Steve groans before he removes his thumb.
Steve lets go of you and brings his hand to his belt, unbuckling it before his hand disappears in his pants. He is freeing his weeping cock. You whimper, your eyes widen when you see his huge length, the tip read, and pre-cum is leaking down his thick, veiny shaft. His hand is wrapped around his cock while he gives himself a few strokes, smirking at you.
“Like that, love? Knew you would love seeing me jerk off and come all over your face,” he says, grinning when you slowly move away from him. His free hand immediately snaps out to grasp your neck again, and he pulls you closer. “Sit still! Wanna give you all of my cum.”
His thumb moves over his tip, and he groans while bucked his hips forward, thrusting into his hand. You can’t move away; his grip is too tight around your neck, and you swallow harshly, trying to look at something else at least. Steve pushes your head even further toward his cock, grinning. His dick is the only thing you are able to look at unless you look up. Then you would look at his lower belly, covered with his shirt.
“Look at my cock when I come all over your face, babe,” he groans, his cock twitching in his hand. He pumps his length at a steady pace, his thumb brushing every now and then across his tip, and he smears his pre-cum all over his cock.
Even though you didn’t want to see it, you kind of like it. Steve's dick is beautiful, and you can’t help the growing wetness between your legs, soaking your panties slowly. “C—Can I do that?”
For a moment, he is narrowing his eyes and tilting his head to the side before he recognizes the way you press your thighs together. Steve loves that his action of jerking himself off in front of you has such an effect on you, and he lets you gladly help him with his hard cock. “You can wrap your hand around my length and pump it.”
You nod, lifting your hand, and wrap your fingers softly around them. The brown-haired man immediately groans loudly when your soft and warm hand is wrapped around him, moving up and down. Your eyes are focused on the leaking tip, and then you let them wander down his shaft. Using your fingertips to slide them along his vein before you wrap your fingers around his cock again.
Steve smirks at you. He looks at you for a while — addicted to your hand around his cock, your soft touches, and the way you clench your thighs to get some friction between your legs. He then looks behind you, and a big mirror shows your back and ass. Steve lifts your shirt and smirks; he can see his name written down over your ass.
A pornographic moan leaves his lips when he thrusts into your hand, almost hitting your face since he still holds you close to his dick. The sight of his name on your lower back and the steady movements of your hand around his cock bring him closer to his orgasm. His balls are heavy, and his dick twitches.
The man grasps your hand, removing it from his cock, and causes you to whine. “Don’t whine; you can get my cock. But I said I would come all over your face. You look so fucking gorgeous with my name on your back; you belong to me, babe.”
You whimper, staring at his cock while he thrusts into his hand. His eyes are focused on your back; Steve is going feral with that sight; his moans and groans get louder, and he is about to come, giving you his cum and painting your face white with it.
With a few more strokes and a loud groan, he comes all over your face, shooting his seeds all over it and smirks satisfied. He could come once again just from you having his cum across your face and looking through your lashes at him. Your tongue is sliding over your lips, licking the cum off of them, and a desperate moan is leaving your lips when you taste him.
“Yeah, like my cum, huh? Pump you full with it; you’re so sexy with my cum all over your face, making me go feral for you,” he groans, leaning down, pushing you away before he presses his lips for a passionate kiss against yours.
It’s rough, and he immediately asks for access when he glides his tongue over your lips, getting it when you part your lips and let him explore your mouth with his tongue. The tingling feeling in your lower stomach grows; your pussy is dripping.
“Let’s clean your face,” he says after pulling away from the kiss. His fingers swipe over your face, grazing his cum. Steve holds them in front of your mouth, waiting for you to twirl your tongue around them and clean his fingers. You moan softly, sucking on his digits, before he repeats his actions and lets you lick off his cum until your face is clean. “Good girl, deserving a reward for helping me to jerk off and eating all of my cum, huh?”
You immediately look up into his beautiful steel-blue eyes, nodding your head. Steve chuckles, letting go of your neck and getting off the bed, starting to strip. “Take off your clothes; I’m hungry, and I want a meal before I pump you full with my cum.” His voice sounds so rough and sexy that you obey, smirking while you do what he asks you for.
He may be a dick, but he is a hot dick, and you’re pretty sure he can help your tingling and dripping cunt perfectly. Maybe he isn’t that bad; he loves you, so you can learn to love him too, right? You definitely can, especially when you see those pretty blue eyes roaming over your naked body like he looks at his prey, ready to eat your pussy.
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sweetiebarnes · 2 years ago
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Bucky Barnes is Loud in Bed
Warnings: (degra)dation, da-d-dy kink, preg-nan-cy kink, lac-tation kink, basically pure filth
A/N: Basically I’ve been thinking about Bucky all day so here you go.
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Bucky Barnes is loud. 
Imagine how vocal Bucky is in the bedroom. He may not have always been this way. Back in the 40s, he’d let out a noise here and there. But ever since being freed as the Winter Soldier, Bucky can’t contain his noises.
HYDRA muffled his voice for so long that now he loves to use it. The moans he lets out could only be described as pornographic. The things he says in the bedroom would never have been allowed in the past.
No, Bucky loves the way you clench around him whenever he degrades. Once he called you a cumslut and you clenched so hard you practically choked his cock in response.
God, he loves the way you get so desperate for him. He loves the way you will beg for him. He loves how you’re always dripping wet for him before he’s even touched you.
It’s all of these things that spur him on. It’s these little things that cause him to say things like, “Such a pretty little pussy for Daddy. She’s just begging to be fucked. Isn’t she?”
Bucky is the definition of feral. He goes after what he wants and when he needs it. Tony was so close to kicking him out of the compound until he decided to soundproof all the bedrooms.
When the topic of having a baby came up, he was the loudest he’d ever been. The thought of filling you to the brim almost drove him mad. He loved the thought of you round with his baby. The idea of your breath filling up with milk. That night he told you every little thing he’d do to you when you’re pregnant.
He may seem quiet around everyone else, but that brooding super soldier screams in pleasure because of you.
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 8 months ago
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just for tonight
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a/n: sure, I was vigilantly working on a different wip (a very long one that needed a lot of strength to get through) but then this whole fantasy came to me and i just couldn't stop myself... at least i downgraded the idea from a full-fledged series (which i sadly very much do not have the time for) to just a slutty little one shot in an au that i can always pop back into whenever the itch pops up (or when anyone has a slutty request for it hehe).
summary: before you could even consider the possible consequences, a desperate request then fell from your lips, “well, what if I’m not asking you to be with me? What if it’s just for tonight? What if I’m only asking you to be with me for one night? Would you give me that?” you blinked up at him, scarcely breathing at all, “would you be mine just till the sun comes up?” 
warnings: bodyguard!bucky barnes x reader, smut, reader's mom is the british ambassador to france, age gap (10-15 years), tattooed!bucky (both a metal arm and tattoos as picked in a poll by you), beefy!bucky, forbidden romance, posh political party, alcohol consumption, wet dream, lingerie, stockings, one night stand (except we already know those fools can't keep it to just one night), kissing, dirty talk, manhandling, size kink, oral, fingering, impact play, squirting, gaping, belly bulge, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie
word count: 4907
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“You sure, you don’t want some?” you squinted over at your bodyguard as you lowered the champagne flute from your lips, “this shit costs more than my dress, which is really saying something,” you pointed to the red silk gown that hung from your frame, “this is Dior.”
“I’m good, miss,” Bucky uttered, tight-lipped as always. 
“Right, sorry,” you sat the glass down at the tall table you stood beside, “can’t drink while on duty.”
Posh parties such as the one tonight were always a bit of a drag to get through. Even though you’d been hauled along for most of your life, they’d never gotten any more amusing. 
But when your mother hired Barnes to be your personal bodyguard a few months back, the thought of getting dolled up just to have a bunch of provoking politicians talk your ear off about ideas you’d never in a million years support, somehow didn’t seem as bad as it used to now that he was constantly at your side. 
It had been a little incident involving your phone getting hacked, an explicit video nearly getting leaked, one that had been made for an ex who lived in another country to make the distance more barrable, and a few threatening messages from the perpetrator that had been the reason for your new shadow. 
Though you’d been resistant at first, storming into your mother’s office to state that you were a grown woman and didn’t need a babysitter just because someone tried to exploit an old sex tape that in your opinion wasn’t even that big of a deal, swiftly got squashed when a then stranger cleared his throat behind you and shared the more gruelling threats that had been made alongside the hacking. 
You’d hoped and prayed that he’d turn out to be a pain, that his personality could squash the feelings that fluttered inside of you whenever you looked at him, but unfortunately, he wasn’t an asshole. He was quiet, professional to a fault, but he wasn’t a dick. If anything, all of the silence and all of the glances to always keep track of you made the crush worse. It made you feel as if you were in a Jane Austen novel, reading between the lines of subtext your unreliable brain came up with.
“You tired?” he asked as a yawn rolled out of you. 
“Mhm,” you hummed behind the palm you had brought up to your lips. 
“The car’s ready to take you back to the embassy whenever you are.” 
A grateful smile twitched at your lip as you offered him a small nod of confirmation, “I’ll just go tell my mom.”
The ambassador, your mother, had her back turned to you as she talked business with a small group of people even though the hour had grown late. 
You waited for a sliver of a break before you tapped her on the shoulder and whispered in her ear.
“Hey, mom?” her palm found yours as she turned to look at you, “I’m gonna head home.”
“Oh, alright,” she leaned in and pressed a small peck to your cheek, “see you tomorrow, love.”
“Bye,” you gave her hand one last squeeze before heading out of the elegant venue, your guard still only a few paces behind you. 
A dusty drizzle met your skin as you exited onto the midnight streets of Paris. The sensation made you want to walk home, though you still followed Bucky to the black car already waiting and slipped in when he opened the back door for you. 
The light from the city reflected on the back of his metal hand as it gripped the steering wheel. You could faintly spot the prominent veins on the other one dance beneath the inked skin as it did the same, tattoos you still ached to discover just how far they stretched beneath his dark suit. 
Though soon your gaze flickered away from his silhouette as he drove, and fluttered out to the glittering cityscape rolling by, the vision of which swiftly lulled you to sleep. 
When you arrived home, Bucky’s steely eyes found your slumbering form in the rear-view mirror. You didn’t rouse when he opened your door and carefully picked you up into his arms. You didn’t wake either as he carried you inside, all the way up to your bedroom, and layed you down on your bed. 
Gently, he removed your heels and quietly placed them down on the hardwood floor before he grabbed your duvet and tugged it over your form. 
But just as he moved to leave your side, half asleep you caught his hand.
“Don’t go…” you murmured hazily, eyes still shut. 
And so, he didn’t.
Bucky simply reached for the tufted chair nearby and, as silently as he could, scooted it closer to the bed. 
Barely an hour passed before you woke. 
Before you even blinked open your eyes, your fingers began to slide down your body as the sinful dream you’d been blessed with still lingered in your foggy brain. 
Though when your eyes did flutter open and discovered the star of the dream sitting in a chair right next to you, your hand halted its voyage, and you sucked in a startled breath. 
“You okay?” he asked softly as you blinked a few times. 
“Uh,” the throbbing that still lingered from the dream probably wasn’t going to fade any faster with him sitting there with his unwavering stare, “yeah, I’m–, uhm…” you propped yourself up on your elbow before sitting up more, “I’m fine.” 
“Did you have a nightmare?”
“No, it wasn’t a–…” your sentence then crumbled as you sucked in a breath, “what are you doing watching me sleep?”
As you met his gaze, he then uttered, “you asked me to stay.”
Your eyes then widened, “I did?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh…” though you couldn’t recall, heat still began to bloom on your cheeks, “I’m sorry, I didn’t–”
“It's alright,” his shoulders offered a faint shrug. 
Averting your gaze, you noticed that you were still in your dress. You weren’t quite sure if it pleased you or not that Bucky didn’t try to strip it off you, though it was probably less the moral intentions and more the fantasy of him peeling it off of you that swayed you. 
“Were you just planning on sleeping in that chair all night?” you asked. 
“No,” he shook his head, “I wasn’t planning on sleeping at all.” 
A tinge of guilt stung in your chest, “I’m really sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, I must have been asleep or something…” you then swung your legs over the side of the bed and got up. As your fingers raised up to pluck off your sparkling earrings, your feet began to carry you in the direction of your wardrobe. Dropping the jewellery off in a small porcelain bowl on the opposite bedside table, you then glanced back at your bodyguard and said, “you don’t have to stay any longer, you can go back to your room and get some sleep.” 
Offering you a nod, he then began to walk towards the door. 
Though, as you reached back to undo your dress, you abruptly uttered, “wait,” and he stopped before his steely fingers could enclose around the door handle. Turning to glance back at you, a bold request then hesitantly fell from your lips, “could you maybe help unzip me?”
He barely made a noise, simply hummed quietly in response before his slow stride carried him towards your frame as it twisted for your back to be turned to him.
When you felt his touch on the zipper, tugging it down ever so slowly, your breath came in ragged, and your eyes fluttered shut. You swore you felt his radiating heat seep into you as he exposed more of your goosebump-ridden spine. 
As the straps tumbled over your shoulders, your hands came up to your chest to hold it up even though you wished for nothing more than to let it drop before him.
And when the zipper finally reached its end, he lingered right behind you just long enough for you to catch the tether of it. Slowly, as if you were dealing with a skittish bird, you rotated around. You didn’t dare to look him in the eyes as you let yourself follow that magnetic pull you’d been trying to keep at bay. Your gaze flickered up to his lips as heated puffs of air seeped from your lungs and you slowly, hypnotically, inched closer. 
But then Bucky opened his mouth and said in a soft and quiet tone, “what are you doing?” making you halt, though not pull back. 
“Please don’t act like you don’t already know… I know you do…”
“You can’t,” he uttered, though didn’t move to walk away either as he captured your gaze, “we can’t, alright?”
“Why not?” you breathed, your eyes returning to his lips, “is it really that important for you to stay professional over everything else? Or is it that I’m just a job to you?” your heart felt as if it was gonna beat straight out of your chest, “you know I like you, I know you do. You notice everything, so of course you know. Am I right?”
A long exhale then flowed from his lungs before the faintest of nods tilted his head, “…yeah.”
“And I have eyes too, I’ve seen the way you look at me,” a shiver trickled down your spine, “so, are you really gonna just stand there and pretend you don’t feel something too? Just go back to your own room and continue to protect me like nothing’s going on?”
“Y/n, I can’t be with you,” he shook his head heavily, “you know I can’t.” 
Can’t or won’t?
Before you could even consider the possible consequences, a desperate request then fell from your lips, “well, what if I’m not asking you to be with me? What if it’s just for tonight? What if I’m only asking you to be with me for one night? Would you give me that?” you blinked up at him, scarcely breathing at all, “would you be mine just till the sun comes up?” 
As if your quiet whispers melted him completely, your bodyguard breathed, “…fuck…” and the next thing you knew, he’d grabbed your face and seized your lips. 
It was like something inside of him had snapped, something you had shattered, with the way that he kissed you as if he’d been drowning and your lips were oxygen. 
As you lost yourself in the sensation of his tongue dancing across your own, you let the red dress drop down your body, passed the sheer stockings that clung around your thighs, to the floor. Like fire, one of his hands disappeared from your cheek and ran down your frame, grazing over the black lingerie that was now exposed.  
Though heated and hungry at first, the kiss soon softened into lighter pecks. 
With his metal hand, he held your face close to his as he withdrew from the kiss, an action you weren’t quite ready for as you dreamily trailed after him a bit, longing for his lips. 
“Are you sure this is what you want?” his hot breath fanned across your features. 
“Yes,” you whispered swiftly. 
But as you dizzily blinked up at him, he simply hummed for you to elaborate, “hm?”
“Yes, I want you,” goosebumps tingled across your skin. 
“You want me to what?” his thumb swiped over your cheekbone. 
“I want you to–, to–…” you fumbled as you felt your desire drip and soak your panties, making them cling to your aching core. 
“To what, huh?” 
“To–… fuck me,” the embarrassingly desperate words tumbled out your mouth. 
“You want me to fuck you?” his unwavering stare briefly dropped to your parted lips.
“Yes,” the syllable rushed out of you. 
“Say it again,” he tilted his chin. 
“I want you to fuck me.”
“Louder,” his feet began to shift, causing yours to shuffle back as well. 
“I want you to fuck me.”
“One more time,” his hand had dropped down to your jaw and his fingers curled slightly to dent your soft cheeks. 
“I want you to fuck me, please!” 
With the hold he had on you, he swiftly dipped down and pressed his lips to yours once more. The world then fell out from under you as his grasp scooped down your frame and plucked you up.
Your arms tangled around his neck right before your back collided with the closet door and your lips tilted away from his as a short squeak slipped out. The distance however lent Bucky to let his kisses dance down the length of your neck and across your cleavage, so perfectly framed by the sheer fabric of your bra. 
Though the hickeys he began to plant across your skin made your eyes roll in your skull, your fingers still captured his tie and tugged him back up for your lips to crash against his. As you moved to push his blazer off, his sturdy grip on you shifted though still held you close as the jacket fell from his burly frame and your palms swiftly scooped over his broad shoulders and down his chest, now one layer closer to letting you actually get to feel the furnace roiling beneath.
Cupping his face close, whimpers seeped out of you and vibrated against his lips as his fingers dug into your ass and rubbed your barely covered cunt over the palpable tent in his pants, your want surely drenching through your thin underwear and marking him as well. 
You almost didn’t realise that Bucky had moved till he dropped you down on the bed. Taking a step back, his tongue briefly flicked across his breathless lips as his fingers lifted to tug his tie off. 
Staring directly into your soul, he uttered, “take your bra off,” as he tossed the tie to the floor and your fingers scrambled to fulfil his request. When you flung the lingerie to the ground, right next to his crumbled tie, the cool night air kissed your pebbly nipples and Bucky let out a murmured curse right before bending down to press his lips to yours. 
Balanced on your elbows, you parted your lips and let his tongue sweep across your own. His touch coasted down your frame, barely granting your tits any attention before his grasp hooked around your thighs and yanked you closer to the edge of the mattress. A surprised yelp escaped you at first at the sudden shift, but as the sting of saliva, that had lingered and connected you from your sloppy kiss, snapped back against your skin, the short cry morphed into a fizzy giggle. 
The light laugh however faded away when you watched him sink to his knees at the foot of the bed. Your legs curled up even further on either side of you, though you weren’t quite sure if that was you or him pushing them up and cracking you open that much more. You could feel his breath hit your pantie-clad core as his gaze fixated on the soaked spot right over your puff. 
When his palm slid up your inner thigh, he only had to reach out his thumb for the broad pad to ghost over your covered slit. His eyes swiftly flickered up to capture yours, checking your reaction as you began to squirm from his feathery light touch. 
Hooking his finger in the gusset, he pulled it to the side and a glossy string stretched out and clung to the fabric as he revealed your glistening pussy. 
A breathy moan billowed out of you as he began to touch you, rolling your little pearl beneath his touch. Finding your eyes once more, he held your gaze as he then leaned down to press a gentle kiss over your clit. 
“This okay?” his voice vibrated against your bundle of nerves, making you twitch. 
“Mhm,” you nodded foggily, “you can do anything you want.”
“Anything?” his lips twitched into a smirk as his fingers stretched from where they were clutching your panties to brush over your button.
“Yeah,” you breathed, “fucking anything.” 
Your mouth then hung agape at the sight of him dipping down to ruthlessly taste your desire. It didn’t take long before he lost himself in you so fiercely that he momentarily leaned back only to rip your underwear off. Both of his hands curved around your bottom, raking across your skin as he drew you even closer to his tongue and dragged it through your wet folds.
Bumping his nose against your clit, he let himself make out with your cunt a moment longer before planting a farewell peck over your pearl and pulling back. A dollop of spit dropped from his lips down onto your pussy. Catching the drop with his fingers before it slid away, he rubbed it into your own juices and made you that much more of a mess. 
“O-oh,” you moaned as he slowly slid a long finger into you after teasing your weepy entrance enough to make you shiver. 
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groaned at the soppy sounds his efforts conjured.
Craning down to kiss your clit sloppily, Bucky then slid his ring finger in beside the other, curving them gently as he reached even deeper. 
When he momentarily retracted his digits to land a small tap over your puffy petals, the smile that bloomed on your face only egged him on further. Plugging you back up, he then retracted and repeated the slap though with more ferocity. 
Your head began to lull a bit as he brought his vibranium digits down to roll your clit and his fingers began to fuck you harder, not faster, but with an intent that made your pussy sing for him. 
With your thighs trembling, they nearly slammed shut as you felt the end near, but your bodyguard only slid his strong metal forearm over your legs, hooking it right under both of your bent knees, to keep you spread nice and open for him. 
The veins on the back of his inked hand popped from how fiercely his fingers rocked within you. 
Stretching his thumb up to strum your clit, he tried to sneak a third finger inside of you as he felt your walls begin to flutter around him. 
“That’s it, I’ve got you,” as he always did in every manner, evidently. A smile curved at his lips as your eyes fluttered closed and a symphony of moans flowed out of you with every last tender stroke he offered you to carry you over the edge, “atta girl.”
Melted against the sheets, you caught your breath as he planted one last peck on your inner thigh before standing back up. 
Slowly, with his gaze ever glued on you, he unbuttoned his shirt, gradually revealing the silver shine of the dog tags that hung from his neck and the tattoos that sprawled across his skin. Going all the way up from the hand still shiny with your essence, the ink swirled up his right arm, across his pecs, down his back and even curved over to his left shoulder and intentionally tangled into the gnarly scares sprouting from the border of his prosthetic. 
When the button-up hit the floor, his fingers drifted down to unhurriedly remove his belt, pulling it out of the loops, he let it join the shirt before he undid his pants and let his cock spring free. 
“Jesus christ…” your jaw couldn’t help but drop to the floor as your eyes fluttered at the intimidating reveal. 
Noticing the anxiety that peeked through your lust-ridden expression, his low voice found your ears, “what? Did you change your mind?” 
“No, I just–…” you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his fat cock as it throbbed before you, “I got a bit nervous all of a sudden.” 
“No reason to be nervous, baby,” he breathed out a smile as his fist curled around his girth.  
“Oh really?” you nearly began to laugh. 
“You’ll be fine,” drool threatened to escape the corner of your lips as he slowly began to stroke himself, “trust me.” 
“Really? Because I’m not so sure I’ll be able to take that…” 
“You will,” he uttered calmly as he dipped down to give you a kiss, “don’t worry,” a hand slid into your hair as he cradled your face and ushered your gaze to find his, “you know I’d never hurt you, right?”
“Yeah.”
“So, you’ll be fine,” his thumb curved to sweep over your cheek a few times. 
“Yeah,” you gently nodded and repeated after him, “I’ll be fine.”
“That’s my girl,” he smiled. Kissing you once more, he then pressed a peck to your forehead before his grasp found your hips and he suddenly flipped you around, onto your stomach. 
Helping you up onto your hands and knees, a hazy smile stretched across your features as he bent down over you and pressed kisses all along your spine. Dragging his bulbous tip through your sopping folds, he then teased you for so long, never granting you any more than a dizzying nudge, that whines began to escape from you.
“P-please,” you heard yourself beg as your fingers bunched up the sheets. 
“What?” he continued to flick and tap your swollen clit with the head of his heavy cock.
“I–I want it–, plea–, please fuck me,” you blubbered desperately. 
“Oh, now you want it, huh?” you could hear the smirk that dominated his face, “suddenly not so nervous anymore about me stretching you out, are you?”
“Bucky, plea–, o-oh–,” you felt your limbs tremble beneath you as he slipped the very tip inside. 
His efforts were so slow at first, gradually giving you more of his length and just shallowly fucking you till you blossomed and opened up for him. 
Gradually, his thrusts began to ease from a mind-numbingly slow pace to something that truly scrambled your brain. You soon lost yourself completely to the molten sensation of his fat girth steadily splitting you open. 
Though when he finally bottomed out within you, a shrill gasp slipped out passed your lips and your frame shuttered beneath him. 
Drawing his hips back just enough for you to regain the ability to fill your lungs with oxygen once more, you heard him murmur in your ear, “what, is it too much dick for you?” retraining his thrusts slightly, he kept his tip from kissing your cervix, “that better or is it still too deep for you?” his hands dented your hips.
“N-no, no, it feels so good, it’s just–,” a whimper slipped out of you and broke up your slurring, “you’re so fucking big, I’ve never–,” you felt like you could feel him all the way up in your throat, “no one’s ever been that fucking deep before.”
One of his hands curved down to your clit at the exact same time as your own did. As they met, he let your own fingers swirl over your puffy pearl as his simply lingered, till he suddenly grasped your wrist and gently led it away from your pussy, further up to your lower stomach. 
“That deep?” he pressed down on your palm and let you discover the dull bulge that formed in your belly at every one of his dizzying thrusts, “has no one ever stuffed you that full before? Not even one of your pretty toys you play with so often?”
“Nuh-uh,” you panted as his warm contact dissipated from your spine and he straightened back up. 
A gravelly moan slipped out past Bucky’s lips as he glanced down to see how tightly your creamy pussy was gripping onto his cock. Your fingers returned to the sheets as his wide palm came down to slap your ass, your back arching at the impact and consequently angling his efforts so that the details of his dick brushed against your g-spot in the most heavenly way imaginable. 
He only buried himself inside of you a few more times, his heavy sack tapping against your buzzing clit at every electric buck, till your pussy gushed around his fat girth. 
“There you go,” he pulled out only to insistently flick your puffy pearl with his tip, “fucking hell,” he then plunged his cock all the way back in before dragging it back out, “keep going,” ushering more squirt to drizzle out. He kept up the overwhelming pattern till your pussy stopped gushing for him, till he’d pushed you through the overstimulation and your cunt slowly began to relax again for him. Eventually, when he steadily withdrew from you, he craned his neck to relish in the way your little hole had stretched out and accommodated so well for him, it even winking sinfully at him every time he pulled out, “good fucking girl,” he growled at the sight, “told you so, you’d do just fine,” your shaky frame jolted as he slapped your ass again, “look at you now fucking gaping for me, christ…”
With a ring of your cream staining the base of his cock, he let himself return to your warmth for longer than just a few seconds, fucking you with such ferocity that your pliant form, still molten and unsteady from your second orgasm, collapsed onto the mattress below. 
Though he successfully caught you before you could slip off his cock entirely, he still let you drop down on the bed, though softened the fall for you, before he followed suit. 
The weight of him on top of you felt so comforting and soothed on your tingly skin.
“You okay?” he kissed your cheek before spreading your stocking-clad legs with his own. 
“Hm,” you nodded foggily and felt yourself drool onto the sheets as he squished you further into the mattress.
Your shaky moans filled the bedroom as he slid back inside, “fuck, you feel so good…” sloppily nipping just below your ear before he picked up his pace. 
The chain that dangled from his neck felt cool on your skin and acted as a stark contrast to how hot his body felt pressed against your back. 
“You think you can be a good girl and cum for me again?” he groaned into your ear as his efforts echoed sloppily, “let me feel that pretty pussy squeeze around me one last time?”
“I-I don’t know,” you trembled beneath him, every one of his deep thrusts making you jolt and gasp for air as he was practically splitting you in half. 
“You don’t know?” he sweetly whispered in your ear as he curled his arms under you. One hand slid under your tit and caught your pebbly nipple in a rude pinch while the other soared down to your sore and swollen clit, “can you try for me? Try and cum again,” your eyes had fallen completely shut, so your whole reality had just become Bucky’s reassuring weight, his tantalising efforts, and his sinful whispers that seeped directly into your soul, “try and squirt for me one last time, sweetheart.” 
And so, you did. It didn’t even take that long before you tumbled over one last time and your pussy creamed for him, drenching the already damp sheets beneath you, as he swiftly came as well, throbbing deep within your clenching cunt and filling your little hole up to the brim till it tried to leak and escape around his girth.
His heavy pants faded from your ear as he slowly crawled off of you, cascading a tender trail of kisses all the way down your body till he gently retraced his track of pecks and settled down next to you. Fluttering your eyes open as his palm slid up to your heated cheek, he gazed into your hazy eyes for a moment before leaning in to softly press his lips to your own. 
You wanted to curl in closer to his frame, but your body was so exhausted that you could barely raise your pinkie finger. Fortunately though, as you layed there in wordless wonder, Bucky’s arms draped around you as he scooted in close, hugging you to him and gently caressing your skin as you continued to blink back into his ocean eyes, not uttering a word out of fear that you’d ruin the blissful moment.
After perhaps a small eternity had passed, he briefly raised his head up slightly to catch sight of the small clock on your bedside table. 
“There’s still a few more hours left before the sunrise…” he settled back down beside you.
“Oh, yeah?” a soft smile tilted up your lips as his touch began to travel south. 
“Yeah,” his lips gently parted in a silent moan as his fingers slid through your sore folds. His stare was transfixed on how your brows knitted together and a quiet hiss slipped out of you as he swirled over your sensitivity, playing with the hot load he’d pumped into you as it slowly leaked out, one of his digits too brash not to try and stuff it back inside, “what do you think?” sharing your breath, he inched in and let his nose nuzzle against your own, “do you want me to be yours just a little bit longer or would you rather I’d return to my own bed?” 
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© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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navybrat817 · 10 months ago
Text
Just Like That
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky suggests staying in a hotel together before an undercover mission, which would be fine if you didn't have a massive crush on the super soldier. Word Count: Almost 5k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, pining, flirting, slight possessive behavior, talk of undercover mission, "only one bed" trope, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: A combination of @targaryenvampireslayer's Blind Date Writing Challenge and my Bucky Barnes Smut Menu, courtesy of @ellemj. "Only One Bed" Trope and the dialogue prompt in bold italics. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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The engagement ring on your finger suited you. Not large or overly flashy, the single diamond radiated a subtle sparkle. It was beautiful and a perfect fit, a representation of the unifying love of marriage. When you looked at it under the light, it was almost as if you could feel the love that Bucky had for you.
If only that were the case.
“Remind me again why we’re doing this?” You asked, taking a seat at the table across from Bucky.
“So we can practice and make sure we’re a convincing couple,” he replied.
You sighed as you glanced around the hotel room for the umpteenth time. A small sitting area, a dining and kitchen combination, a single bathroom, and a bedroom. When you pointed out that there was only one bed, Bucky reminded you of the expectation that the two of you had to sleep together while on assignment since you were going on a couple's retreat. Which wouldn't be an issue if you didn't have a crush on him, right?
Right.
You were completely enamored with Bucky Barnes, the handsome former assassin turned agent for the revamped SHIELD. Instacrush wasn't something you experienced often, so he took you by surprise. It was pathetic to fall for him so hard and quickly. It had to be some sort of karma or divine intervention that you were with him in a hotel room.
Just the two of you.
“You know,” he began, wetting his lips as he leaned back in his chair. You blinked, only because you didn't want him to call you out on staring. “You don't have to look so miserable to be here. Is my company that terrible?”
“What? No. Bucky, you aren't terrible company,” you promised, slumping a bit in your chair. The last thing you wanted to do was upset him. “Just been a bit since I've been in a relationship and I’m kind of rusty.”
“You're talking to a guy who hasn't been on a real date since the 40s,” he deadpanned.
He had a point. Plus, from what you understood, Bucky wasn't exactly interested in dating anyone. Every time Steve or Natasha suggested he go on a date, he found a way to brush it off or change the subject.
Even if he was interested in dating, did he think of you as anything beyond a colleague?
Taking this assignment may have been a mistake.
“I’m just not sure I’m the right one for this job,” you said.
“You’re perfect for this job. Why would you think otherwise?”
You froze like a deer in headlights, even as his compliment warmed your heart. It meant a lot that he thought you would do the job well. But how were you supposed to answer that question? That you adored him and it would be torture to pretend to be with him for a week just to back to being coworkers after?
“We should practice,” you suggested instead of giving him an answer. The backstory wasn't overly elaborate, but you had to get it right.
He leaned forward, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Did someone say something to make you think you wouldn't be good for this assignment?” He asked in a low voice. “Because I'll straighten them out.”
You bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from whimpering. The thought of him putting someone in their place to make you feel better was swoon-worthy. “No, Bucky. No one said anything. You're right. I’m good for this,” you said before you added, “We’re good together.”
You couldn't read the look he gave you and it became more difficult not to squirm under his gaze. “Yeah,” he whispered, leaning back and clearing his throat. “So. We’re engaged. Going to a resort for a much needed vacation. We’ll have to mingle with some of the guests in between investigating the owner. One of the first questions will be how we met.”
With an exhale, you recited, “We met at a coffee shop. We both ordered the same drink.”
“An iced caramel macchiato,” he said.
“And we reached for the drink at the same time,” you smiled, making a show out of reaching for the glass on the table. “Our fingers touched first. Our eyes met second.”
“And I immediately asked you out,” he smiled.
Your heart swelled. He looked like he didn’t have a care in the world when he smiled like that. “You did,” you said, trying to blink the longing from your eyes. “We went to dinner and talked a bit about ourselves. You told me you're a mechanic and I told you I’m a teacher. And once dinner was over, we went back to that same coffee shop and we shared an iced caramel macchiato.”
“Even proposed to you at the same shop,” he said, gesturing to your left hand. “But I actually got the ring after our first date because I knew I wanted you to be my girl,” he said with such conviction that you found it hard to breathe.
The way his eyes softened as he gazed at you, you found yourself believing him for a moment. You had to stay rooted in realism though. The point of the mission besides the actual mission was to act as if you two were crazy about each other.
Not that you had to do any acting on your part.
You cleared your throat and pulled your hand back from the glass. “If only that were true,” you said, absentmindedly twisting the ring around your finger. You weren't cynical about love, but this whole thing was a reminder that you were single and alone.
His brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
Heat crept up your neck. You shouldn't have said anything. “I mean, it just would've been nice if we met at a coffee shop,” you replied to avoid saying you wanted to be his girl.
“What’s wrong with how we met?” He asked, crossing his arms.
The metal arm gleamed under the light. You noticed that he had a tendency to wear long sleeves and gloves whenever he was in the building, but seeing him with his sleeve pushed up and missing glove? You would almost say he was comfortable around you.
Again, he had to play the part right.
You pulled yourself from your thoughts when he said your name, which sounded like it melted on his tongue. It made you press your thighs together. You needed to stay professional. “Do you not remember what happened or are you just being nice?” You asked.
Months ago, the day you met Bucky, Steve informed you that he planned to introduce you to him after he came back from a long assignment. Not only were you excited to meet one of his best friends and a great soldier, but you had wanted to make a good impression on him. What you did was make an ass out of yourself when you turned the corner only to smack right into the former Winter Soldier.
And splattered your beverage on both of you in the process.
Instacrush and a horrible impression on your part.
Bucky’s lips curled in a smile as your eyes widened. “You do remember,” you said, wadding up a nearby napkin and tossing it at his face, which he easily caught. “Oh, my God! That’s why you chose ‘coffee shop' for this, didn't you?”
You concentrated so much on getting the backstory right that it didn't occur to you that he was maybe poking fun at you. He wasn't the kind of guy that liked making others feel bad though. Tease you, sure. Outright make fun of you at the risk of hurting your feelings? He would never.
“Hey, I didn't choose how we met, but I also didn't object,” he said, raising his hands in surrender when you went to throw another napkin at him. “And I wouldn't forget meeting you, doll. You make a lasting impression.”
You wished you had done something to make him remember you besides spilling a drink on him. “I guess making an idiot out of myself is a lasting impression,” you teased.
Something dark flashed in his eyes, making your breath hitch. “That’s not what I meant. You didn't make an idiot out of yourself and I don't like you thinking that or talking down about yourself.”
“I’m sorry,” you said, not used to someone getting so defensive at your self-depreciation. There was something sexy and heartwarming about it. “You were very nice about the whole incident.”
“You were nice, too,” he said, gesturing to his torso. “I mean, you offered to buy me a new shirt.”
“Because I spilled my drink on it! I felt bad,” you said.
“And when I said you didn't have to buy me a new shirt, you said, ‘Are you sure I can't pay for the dry cleaning at least, Sergeant Barnes?’” he said in a falsetto voice.
He chuckled when you rolled your eyes. “I don't sound like that, first of all, and I was being considerate,” you said. You couldn't believe he remembered your exact words. “And you just gave me that half confused smile of yours before I grabbed napkins for both of us to clean up.”
“You mean this?” He asked, his lips stretching in that familiar awkward grin.
“Yeah, that,” you giggled, your heart doing that funny flip that happened far too often around him.
In the beginning, whenever you smiled at him, he gave you that very look in return. Somewhere along the way, the uncomfortable glances on his end became genuine fondness. It didn't mean anything though.
Just an agent being kind to another agent.
Bucky stared at you as you continued to giggle at the memory. “I’m sorry. I just-”
“I love your laugh,” he said, almost making you choke on your own breath. Nothing like forgetting how to be a human and breathe. “And your smile.”
Maybe he had switched back into practice mode. “You do?” You asked, playing along as you smiled directly at him.
He swallowed and nodded. “Yeah, I do,” he replied, his voice thick as he unfolded his arms. “You know, you're one of the people that actually smiles at me. And you look me in the eye when you talk to me.”
“Why wouldn't I?”
“Because some people are still afraid of me,” he whispered.
Your heart sank. He was a good man. A hero wrongly painted as a villain. It wasn't fair what he went through and you had no reason to fear him.
Why couldn't everyone else see the good in him?
“I’m not afraid of you, Bucky,” you promised. And after what he went through, frightening people was the last thing he would do. “Never have been. Never will be.”
“Maybe you should be,” he muttered, some of the light leaving his eyes.
Your eyes narrowed as you tempered the urge to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. Seeing this vulnerable side of him also brought out your protective instinct. “Listen to me. You’re amazing and a good man, okay? And if I don't get to call myself an idiot for spilling a drink on you, then you don't get to say I should be scared of you, Sergeant Barnes,” you said with an air of finality.
He gave you an impressed smile. “Just like that? Because those are totally different things you're comparing.”
“Just like that,” you said, putting your hand on the table for him to take if he wished. “Do you trust that I'll have your back on this mission? Because I trust that you'll have mine no matter what.”
He stared at your upturned hand for a moment before he took it. “You're one of the only people I do trust,” he admitted.
His eyes bore into yours as you tried to find the words to respond. He wasn’t feeding you a line to make you feel good about yourself. Bucky Barnes trusted you.
“Then trust me when I say we got this,” you promised. You would look out for him and let him know that he hadn’t misplaced his trust in you.
“Why don't you have a boyfriend?” He asked suddenly.
The switch in topic jarred you, but he didn’t let go of your hand. “That’s. I’m. What? How is that relevant?”
It wasn't smooth, but it was better than blurting out that your hopeless crush on him was one of the major factors.
“I’m curious,” he shrugged.
“Oh. Well. My last boyfriend dumped me for being an agent. Seriously, he didn't like the fact that I could kick his ass if I wanted to,” you told him, squeezing his hand without meaning to. He didn’t object. “Which I wouldn't.”
“You could kick my ass if you wanted to,” he winked. Physically, Bucky was broad and strong. You weren’t sure you could take him in a real fight, but you could take him another way if he ever offered. “And your ex sounds like an asshole if he can’t stand beside and support an amazing woman.”
You smiled humorlessly. “Thanks, Bucky, but I’m not-”
“I swear to fuck if you talk down about yourself again, I will put you over my knee,” he threatened, his eyes darker than they were seconds ago.
You didn’t laugh as he stared at you. Neither did he. Your clothes suddenly felt too heavy, your body too warm. Licking your lips, you couldn’t stop yourself from saying, “Is that a promise?”
Bucky pushed his chair back and pointed at his thigh, his eyes still on you. “Get over here and find out.”
Oh, fuck.
The sound of Bucky’s phone ringing snapped you both out of whatever spell you two were under. “Shit,” he muttered, taking his hand from yours. “It’s Steve. I better-”
“Yeah, you should answer that,” you said, almost knocking the chair over as you stood. “I think I'm going to call it a night.”
“Wait, what?” He asked, answering the phone. “Hold on, punk,” he said, covering the screen as he looked at you. “You’re going to bed now?”
Guilt settled in your stomach at the hurt in his eyes. “Just going to lay down. I may not go to sleep right away. And we can practice more in the morning,” you replied. You just needed to step out of the room and take a breath.
He waited a beat before he nodded, the tension still lingering. “I’ll be there in a few minutes, okay?”
“Okay,” you nodded, leaving him alone so he could talk to Steve.
You splashed a bit of water on your face when you went to the bathroom to change. The assignment hadn’t started and you couldn’t keep your cool. With squinted eyes, you pointed at your reflection and mentally scolded yourself. Yes, you wanted Bucky Barnes and maybe, just maybe, some part of him wanted you. At least, he wanted you enough to put you over his knee.
You couldn't have him though. Could you? Mixing business with pleasure could lead to complications if you crossed that line, but it wasn’t like you’d break some major bylaw by being his girl.
Now wasn’t the time to think about that.
“Get your shit together,” you hissed, rushing through your nighttime routine and changing into your comfortable yet sexy nightgown.
Your eyes went to the bed when you left the bathroom. Just a regular hotel bed. Inviting, but not overly frilly. Large enough for the both of you, but small enough that you might end up in each other’s arms.
“It’s going to be a long night,” you muttered.
Sighing, you left a light on for Bucky to see and crawled into bed, shutting your eyes as he wrapped up his call with Steve. You tried to block out the sound of his footsteps as he made his way to the bathroom. Maybe his nighttime routine would take a bit longer than you thought and you could drift off and wake up to the sight of his beautiful eyes and-
The bed dipped as Bucky curled up behind you, your eyes opening when he placed his arm around your waist and pulled you back against him. You were conscious of every shift in his body, every breath he took. How you could smell his lingering cologne as he pressed himself closer. How he ran warmer than you and you wanted him to heat you up even though you weren’t cold.
And that he wasn’t wearing a fucking shirt.
“I know you aren’t sleeping,” he whispered, his fingers brushing along the fabric that covered your skin. “Your heart’s beating too fast.”
He was right. It was about ready to burst through your chest. “Can’t sleep.”
“Why not?” He asked, helping you roll over so you were on your back. He didn’t remove his hand though. “Did my ‘threat’ make you uncomfortable?”
“No, it didn't,” you assured him, heat pooling between your legs that you couldn't prevent. “I wouldn't have continued with the banter if I was uncomfortable.”
“Just making sure,” he said. “I was only teasing.”
You huffed out a laugh in an effort to cover up the crushing feeling in your chest, your arousal fading to a dull ache. “Of course, you were,” you uttered. Teasing. Nothing more. “Good night, Bucky,” you said, turning your head away.
He brought a hand to your cheek and brought your face back toward him. How did his eyes look so blue in the faint light? “Don’t go to sleep yet, please.”
“Why not?”
“You rushed to bed and now you're shutting down. I clearly said or did something wrong,” he sighed, which made you feel bad. He hadn't done anything wrong in your eyes since it wasn’t his fault you wanted his teasing to mean something. “I need to fix it.”
“There’s nothing to fix because you didn't break anything,” you said, the ring heavy on the finger. “But can I ask for a favor?”
“Of course,” he whispered.
You didn’t dare search out his gaze when you said, “I may need reminders this week that you don't actually have feelings for me.”
A few seconds went by before he asked in a small voice, “What?”
You took a breath to compose yourself. The last thing you needed to do was get upset for no good reason. “We’re going to hold hands and cuddle and share a bed and be a couple, but you may need to give me a reality check now and again that you only see me as an agent. Okay?”
Maybe he’d ask Steve for a new partner in the morning.
“You think I only see you as an agent?” He asked, sighing when you nodded. “I used to be good at this.”
“Good at what?”
“Teasing. Flirting,” he answered, leaning in close. He stopped just before his lips touched yours. “Kissing.”
“Wait. You were flirting with me?” you said, not moving forward or back as you put a hand on his chest. His heart raced as fast as yours. And your brain couldn’t compute that implication that he wanted to kiss you. “You weren’t just practicing for the assignment?”
He huffed out a laugh this time. “You’re killing me, doll,” he whispered, closing the distance.
You imagined Bucky kissing you before, but didn’t think it would ever be so soft. His lips barely brushed against yours, but it felt like the beginning of something more. It tempted you like nothing else ever had. He must’ve felt it, too, since he deepened it. You melted. You surrendered.
You never stood a chance.
“So, you like me?” You asked when he pulled back a little to gaze at you. “I’m sorry. I just need to hear you say it because I really like you and have for months. Fuck, maybe I shouldn’t have said that because we have a whole week together for this assignment and now you know and I don't want it to be weird.”
Your mind almost shut down when he gave you a full-blown smile and said, “Yeah, I like you. I thought it was obvious. I tried dropping little hints, talking about your smile and trusting you.” He chuckled almost shyly as his words sank in. “I took this assignment because of you.”
A moment passed before you giggled, happiness blooming in your chest. Bucky Barnes liked you. Wanted you. “Thank fuck,” you breathed, pulling him back down for another kiss.
He groaned, ravaging your mouth as he moved on top of you. His knee pushed your legs apart so he could settle between them, swallowing down your whimpers when he pressed his growing hardness against your pussy. He ground his hips, your panties soaked as his tongue tangled with yours. The man kissed you like he had something to prove.
Like he wanted to own you.
His muscles rippled as he leaned up and grasped the bottom of your nightie. The vision of him above you like this was now engraved in your mind. “If you want me to stop, I will.”
Sleeping with him was moving fast considering you just confessed your feelings for each other, but you didn't care. “Don't stop,” you whispered, quivering as he tugged the fabric over your head.
Your hands moved up to cover your chest before he gripped your wrists. “Are you trying to hide from me?” He questioned, his smirk playful in comparison to the uncertainty in his gaze.
You didn't want him doubting himself or your want for him for a second.
“Maybe? I mean, look at you and look at…”
You wouldn't knock on your looks since you were generally confident in your appearance, but the super soldier was an entirely different level of gorgeous. He towered over even the largest of agents, with the exception of Steve, and his dark lashes framing his steel eyes were enough to pull you under.
And who were you compared to him? Just another agent. Average.
“Don't,” he whispered, releasing a wrist so he could cup your breast. You arched your back and any uncertainty in his eyes before faded when a moan escaped your lips. “You're so fucking beautiful.”
The praise almost made your eyes water as he brought his head down, losing focus when he swept his tongue across your nipple. Your eyes fluttered shut as he did it again, a wave from a sea of ecstasy crashing over you. Your heart thudded faster, addicted to the feel of his sinful mouth.
“You’re the reason I don't have a boyfriend,” you whined, your fingers twisting in his hair. Why did you say that?
He smirked against your skin before he reached down and tore your panties away. “I haven't gone on a date because of you.”
Your body throbbed with need as you met his gaze. “You're just saying that to get in my pants,” you joked.
His eyes raked down your body, stopping between your trembling thighs as he pushed his pants and underwear down. “If I had my way, I would've taken you out first,” he said, drawing a moan from you when he wrapped a hand around his thick cock. “But all I can think about right now is how loud you’ll say my name when I make you come.”
“Bucky,” you moaned, tempted to reach down and touch yourself to the sight of him.
“Louder than that,” he said smugly, rubbing the tip of his cock along your slick folds. “Fuck, I wanna take my time and explore you. Make you feel like a goddess. Treat you the way you deserve.”
It warmed your heart and sent another wave of desire through you knowing he wanted to take care of you. “I know you'll treat me well,” you smiled, opening your legs wider. “But for now, please, fuck me.”
He didn't ask about birth control, which you were on. You didn't ask about condoms. It didn't matter. You wanted to feel all of him.
You glanced down as he lined himself up, watching as he slowly eased into you. It was overwhelming as you took every inch, your mouth falling open with a moan. You floated in a cloud of lust, the sound of his groan reaching your ears.
“Look at me,” he ordered as he bottomed out.
Your eyes flew to his as he gripped your chin. The feel of him inside you, his eyes staring so intently into yours that he practically touched your soul. It was almost too much. And that was when he began to move, the weight of his body on top of yours as he fucked you in slow and deep thrusts. It was the kind of lovemaking that would make you crave more.
Crave him.
“Knew you'd take me well,” he grunted. You whined, the praise going straight to your core as you tightened around his thick cock. Your walls couldn't stop gripping him as he slid in and out. “Knew your pussy would be greedy for me. Won’t let me go.”
Your head fell back against the pillow, dizzy as he trapped your body under his. As he rolled his hips, you wondered if he’d let you ride him at some point. Maybe he’d fuck up into you as he brought your hips down. Or maybe he’d lay back and cup your breasts, let the weight bounce in his hands as you took all of him.
You’d take whatever he gave you.
The growing pleasure within you was like you were burning from the inside out, each movement from him stoking the flames. His low groans mixed with your whines, his thrusts increasing in speed when he brought his thumb to your clit. Your hand worked its way back into his hair as you cried out his name, your control slipping further and further away as he took over.
“Just like that,” he moaned. “Don’t hold back on me. Wanna hear every pretty sound you make.”
“Bucky, I'm gonna…” you trailed off, your orgasm building fast in your core and ready to burst.
“Come,” he finished for you, a filthy smirk on his face as he laced his fingers with yours.
One more thrust and you were gone, his name falling from your lips as you came. Your mouth stayed open as you spasmed, pleasure rushing from head to toe. You panted and didn't care if you'd ever properly breathe again. That was how good it felt.
“I’m close, doll,” he gritted, resembling a growl as he continued to fuck you and chase his release. “Gonna come inside you. Gonna own you.”
“Come inside me, Bucky,” you begged, watching through half-lidded eyes as his face contorted in ecstasy. It was such an erotic sight. “Please.”
He buried himself deep with a long moan as he filled you in hot, thick spurts, nuzzling his face in your neck when he finished. He said your name as he heavily breathed against your neck and it was the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. You wrapped your arms around him when he stayed inside you, not at all bothered as your mixed release slowly trickled out.
You didn't want him to let you go.
“Well,” you huffed, a dopey smile on your face as you ran your fingers through his hair. “I don't think we’ll have a problem convincing people we care about each other.”
He chuckled, kissing your warm skin. “And we won't have a problem sharing a bed,” he said, keeping you close as you yawned. “Sleep, doll. I’ve got you.”
“I’ve got you, too,” you said, feeling him smile against you as you drifted off.
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The delicious ache between your thighs was the second thing you noticed when you woke up. The first, of course, was Bucky’s arm and leg draped over you: warm, protective, perfect. He was still fast asleep, the blanket pooled around his waist, completely at ease with the world. You could get used to waking up like this.
You hesitated before you touched his cheek, not wanting to wake him as you kissed his forehead. You wished you had time to kiss every scar on his body and worship him the way he said he wanted to worship you. The two of you would have to leave the bed sooner or later. There was work to do.
“Mmm. Morning,” he said, his voice laced with sleep as he cracked an eye open.
“Morning,” you whispered, cuddling closer as he brought your hand to his mouth and kissed over the ring. The motion made you brush against his crotch and you were close enough to hear the hitch in his breath. You did it again, keeping your gaze innocent as he opened his eyes more and groaned.
Yes, there was work to do, but it was still early.
“You’re still horny? Didn’t I fuck you hard enough last night?” He teased.
“Yeah, I’m still horny,” you replied. Waking up next to him would arouse anyone. “Need you to fuck me again.”
“You won’t be able to walk if I fuck you again,” he smirked, rolling on top of you and digging his fingers into your waist.
“Should’ve known you’d be a cocky boyfriend,” you teased back, your heart thundering in your chest as he leaned down and skimmed kisses along your jaw. “Sorry, we didn’t put a label on this and there’s still stuff to figure out and the mission and-”
“Hey. Boyfriend, your man, whatever you want to call me, I’m yours,” he cut you off, his mouth drifting to your neck. “And I still owe you a date, got it? You’re my girl. You’re mine.”
“I'm yours,” you gasped when he nipped your skin hard enough to sting, his tongue soothing it after. You were his and he was yours. “So, we're a couple now? Just like that?” You smiled as he worked his way back to your lips.
Bucky answered you with a kiss. “Just like that.”
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I struggled a bit with this one after having to scrap almost 2k and go in another direction, but I ended up falling in love with it. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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imyourbratzdoll · 11 months ago
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𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒘𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒍𝒖𝒎𝒑 𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒇𝒇
🍓the strawberry shack masterlist🍓
summary - being the sheriff was tough, but lee had found something to relax him and that thing was at the strawberry shack.
warning - smut, gloryhole, oral sex, swearing.
18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.
Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.
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Lee parks his car, tipping his hat at the people that pass before he enters The Strawberry Shack, he had become a regular in this place, enjoying that there were women always at his service. Lee nods at the woman at the front desk, heading straight for a certain door and making his way inside. There you were, he had been itching to feel your lips wrapped around his cock again. 
“Hiya, suga’. I’ve missed your lips so much, you miss my cock?” He stands in front of your hole, reaching down to unbuckle his belt and pull out his throbbing member. 
“Of course I did, I missed feeling your cock heavy on my tongue, I missed sucking you off until you cum down my throat. I miss your taste.” Your sultry voice causes Lee’s cock to twitch, your words music to his ears. “Are you going to let me have a taste?” You moan, licking your lips as you watch him stroke his thick girthy member through the hole. 
“Shit, suga’. Making me throb over here. You gonna be a good girl if I let you have a taste?” Lee groans, squeezing his tip before stroking his cock again. 
You whine. “Only for you.” Lee slides his cock through the hole, and you immediately launch forward and wrap your lips around him, sucking on his tip before sliding down and choking on his cock. Your tongue swirls around, flicking underneath and tracing the prominent veins. Drool seeps from the sides of your mouth as you continue to choke and gag on him, your eyes rolling back.
“Fuck, suga’. Best fucking head I’ve ever received.” His hands rest on his hips, fucking your mouth through the hole. Lee keeps his back straightened even though the feel of your mouth on him makes him want to crumble. His nostrils flare as he holds back his groans, feeling pleasure ripple through him.
You moan around him, sucking him harder, your head bobs up and down. You can feel him twitch on your tongue, enjoying that you can bring a man so dominant down with just your mouth. You move up to his tip, paying special attention to it. Sucking and swirling your tongue around it before you flick underneath causing him to buck his hips, accidentally letting a grunt slip. 
“Fucking hell, suga’. Keep that up and I’ll cum.” With a new thirst for his cum, you continue your movements but faster and harder, working like a whore to get his cream out. Lee’s eyes roll back, and he quickly rests his palms on the wall for support as you suck his cock like a vacuum. His cock begins to twitch like crazy, balls tightening before a large amount of cum spurts out of his tip, coating your gorgeous mouth. 
You swallow, lapping up every bit of his cream before you gently pull off with a pop. You watch him pull out and tuck himself back into his pants, a smirk resting on your lips. 
“Thanks, suga’. Make sure you’re ready for me tonight. Gonna need that sweet cunt.” And with that, Lee saunters off.
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thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
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societyfolklore · 16 days ago
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Through the Cold  
Title: Through the Cold  (the electricity is out, let's keep each other warm) Pairing: Avenger Bucky Barnes x  Agent Female Reader
Summary:  After a mission gone awry, Bucky and Reader find shelter in a remote house on the outskirts of town. With the power out and temperatures dropping, they’ll have to find ways to stay warm.
Word Count:  2.7k
Warnings:  Warnings // Explicit Content //18+, Minors DNI, Fluff, Pet names, unprotected sex (Don’t!), Fingering. Not Beta read.
A/N: Another entry for @the-slumberparty December daze challenge) Day 13 (Yeah I don't know if I’m not really doing this right…) The wind howled outside, battering against the thin walls of the small house you and Bucky had taken refuge in. Snow piled high against the windows, casting the room in a muted, white glow. The mission hadn’t gone as planned, but you were both safe for now and luckily you’d found this house before the blizzard turned dangerous. You leaned against the window, rubbing your arms as you watched the storm rage outside. Your breath fogged the glass, and the chill in the air seeped through every crack and crevice of the old structure. Still it was better then being outside..
“It’s getting colder,” you said, glancing over your shoulder at Bucky. He was crouched by the fireplace, fiddling with a bundle of wood he’d found in the corner. His metal hand glinted in the dim light, steady and precise as he arranged the logs.
“I know,” he replied, his voice low and calm. “I’ll get this fire going in a minute.”
You turned back to the window, shivering as another gust of wind rattled the glass. Your coat and gear were soaked from the snow, and you hadn’t had a chance to dry off properly.
“We’ll be fine,” Bucky said from behind you, his tone firm but reassuring. “It’s just one night.”
“I know,” you murmured. “I just hate being stuck like this.”
The sound of a match striking drew your attention, and you turned to see a small flame catch on the kindling. The firelight danced across Bucky’s face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the intense focus in his blue eyes. He fed the fire carefully until it roared to life, filling the room with a faint warmth.
“There,” he said, standing up and brushing his hands off. “That should help.”
You stepped closer to the fire, holding your hands out toward the flames. “Thanks,” you said softly.
Bucky nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he turned to inspect the rest of the room. The house was small, just a kitchen, a living area, and a bedroom. It looked like no one had lived here in years, but it was clean and dry, which was more than you could ask for given the circumstances.
“There’s no power,” Bucky said after checking the light switches. “Figures.”
“Great,” you muttered. “So, no heat except for the fire, no lights, and no way to charge our comms.”
“We’ll manage,” he said, his voice steady. “We always do.”
You couldn’t argue with that. Over the years, you and Bucky had been through worse. Still, the cold was already biting at your fingers and toes, and the thought of spending the night in these conditions wasn’t exactly comforting.
After a while, the fire began to warm the room enough for you to take off your wet coat. You draped it over a chair near the hearth, hoping it would dry before morning. Bucky did the same, his leather jacket and combat vest joining the makeshift drying rack. He had the luxury of running warm from the serum, while you were just stuck with whatever your body could muster and you were scrunching fingers and toes trying to encourage blood flow.
“Here,” he said, tossing you a blanket he’d found in the bedroom. “It’s not much, but it’ll help.”
You wrapped the blanket around your shoulders, sighing in relief as the soft fabric trapped some of the heat from the fire. “Thanks.”
Bucky settled onto the floor near the hearth, leaning back against the couch that looked to decrepit to carry any weight and stretching out his legs. He looked tired, his shoulders slumped and his head tilted back slightly. The sight tugged at your heart—he always carried so much weight, and it wasn’t just the mission that had worn him down. The fatigue that infected his soul at times came through,
“You should rest,” you said, sitting down beside him.
“I’ll rest when you do,” he replied without looking at you.
“Bucky,” you said, your tone soft but insistent. “You’re not doing either of us any favours by running yourself into the ground. Get some sleep. I’ll keep watch.”
He finally turned to look at you, his blue eyes searching yours. “You’re freezing,” he said after a moment. “I can see it.”
You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off. “Don’t argue with me, doll. Come here.”
Before you could respond, he reached out and tugged you closer, pulling you into his side. His metal arm wrapped around your shoulders, and the warmth of his body seeped through the blanket and into your skin. You tensed for a moment, caught off guard, but then you relaxed, leaning into him.
“Better?” he asked, his voice low and rumbling in your ear.
“Yeah,” you admitted. “Thanks.”
The two of you sat in silence for a while, the only sounds the crackling of the fire and the wind howling outside. Slowly, the tension in your body began to fade, replaced by a growing sense of comfort and safety.
“You know,” you said after a while, your voice quiet, “For someone who likes to come off as Mr grumpy pants, your being very sweet.”
Bucky huffed a laugh, his breath warm against your hair. “Is that so?”
“Mm-hmm,” you said, smiling to yourself. “Underneath all the brooding and the grumpiness, your might actually be a softie Barnes...”
“Don’t let that get around,” he said, his tone light but with an edge of sincerity. “I have a reputation to uphold.”
You laughed softly, the sound filling the small space. “Your secret’s safe with me.”
For a moment, you thought you felt him press a soft kiss to the top of your head, but before you could be sure, he shifted slightly, pulling the blanket tighter around both of you.
“Get some rest,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “I’ll keep you warm. Can’t have you getting sick or dying of hypothermia on me. Might have to get used to a new partner.” “Oh no, new people, the horror.” You teased back settling against him and tried to get some rest, it was going to be a long trek out in the morning. As you drifted off to sleep, cocooned in his warmth, you were sure you felt his face burry into your hair near your neck, probably just trying to get warm himself as he held you tighter. Waking up you were shaking, the cold biting in hard at your bone, Bucky wasn’t there. “B-Bucky?” “Here Doll.” Sitting up you could see in the dim light him moving the old mattress from the bedroom into the living room to cover over the window that had broken as the blizzard outside had broken the window letting the fridged air fill the room. You pulled the blanket tightly around you as he pushed it up again the widow blocking out the wind, and disappeared again the sound of wood breaking before he came in carrying the remains of a bedframe and tossed it into the fire place stocking the flame while you shivered teeth chattering violently before he rejoined you on the floor pulling up against him into his lap “Fuck your freezing Doll.”
“y-y-yeah.”
Bucky pulled off his henley putting onto you for extra layers you head under his chin while he wrapped himself tightly around the fire returning heat to the room.
“I got you, alright, you’re alright.”  He ran firm hand up and down your back trying to get you warm, kissing the top of your head while your buried yourself into him your face pressed into his neck shaking. Staying like this wrapped up in him and the blanket eventually the warm and you warmed your face pressed into his neck, your body relaxing as the cold ebbed and you were now more aware of the situation. How close your mouth was to his neck, the fact he was shirtless, how hard you were breathing? “I- I think.. I’m Ok..”
You tried to move and Bucky seemingly reluctantly loosened his hold pulling away enough to look down at you while you stared up into his face, cheeks pink from the heat. “You feeling warm enough now Doll?” His voice sounded rough and thick with a feeling you didn’t want to name.
“y-yeah..” your reply coming back quiet
“Good.” His hand pushed hair back off your face, his thumb running over your bottom lip. “Had me worried there Princess..” he gaze looked down at your lips. “Sure your warm enough?”
“Yeah? Why?”
“Oh just, thinking…” Bucky breath brushed over your face. “Got to be sure.” Before you knew what was happening his lips pressed into yours, it was tender but needing as his hand went into your hair his metal warm wrapping tighter holding you to him. Your little moan coming back dying on his tongue as it slide into your mouth your body melting against his.   Bucky rolled you onto your back his body covering yours as his hand ran down your side and pulling off his henley from you and unzipping the front of your jumpsuit his hand sliding inside the fabric while his hips ground into the side of your hip. “Doll you have no idea how long I’ve thought about this.”   Bucky growled his mouth leaving yours to move down you neck while he pulled the suit down past your waist your hips rolling back into his. “Thought about this perfect little body of yours.” “Buck.” Your voice didn’t even sound like yours, as it got higher his hand pulling the suit down past your hips and down your thighs and off as he marked up your neck.
“You’re so perfect Doll” His hands were everywhere, your breasts, your thighs as he explored and kissed before his hand slide inside your underwear palming at your core drawing up a moan from you as your gripped his bicep, before his finger slide along wet folds. “Oh Princess, looks like I’m not the only one wanting this.” You could yeah the smug smile on his face as he pressed fingers into your clit making your whimper. “Bet I could have done this weeks ago and you’d of let me right?”
“Oh god Buck, yes.”
His fingers eased your entrance only for a moment.
“Deep breath.”  You didn’t even have a chance before he pushed two fingers into your wet heat making your arch and moan “Oh yeah, that’s it, do that for me again.” He drew his metal fingers back out and repeated the action going all the way to his knuckles. “Oh good girl. Such a good girl.” His mouth up against your ear as he nipped at your neck again your hips rocking to meet his fingers. “Oh fuck.. auh..” You felt your face body bend as he curled his fingers forward your body getting hotter as he built up more pace.
“That’s it pretty girl.” He made the world melt. “Going to make it all nice and wet and warm for me.” You arched and rocked for him as he worked your body in a way no one else had taken time too the wind howling outside mixing with the way the blood rushed in your ears.
“Wanna cum now Sweet Thing? “ He asked drawing out another whimper from you, as your got impossibly close your walls holding tightly to his fingers “Or hold it for me?”
“I- I.” You couldn’t think
“I think you should, think I deserve to hear you do I?” He picked up the pace his thumb pressing up into your clit as he worked your cunt the sounds wet desire coming from getting louder. “Come on Doll, wanna hear it, can feel you squeezing.”  His metal thumb moved in tighter circles and it was your undoing. Pleasure crashing into you as it all got to hard to hold. Calling out for him as your grabbed at his arms panting.
“ARGH!”  Your writhed on the floor bucking into his hand your walls held onto his fingers tightly before he let your body slump.
“Oh Doll, you are perfect.” He pulled his fingers from you licking off the coating you’d left on them before undoing his pants kneeling over your body watching you skin shine in the fires light as he got himself free of his denim leaning back over you. “So perfect, and all mine.” He almost sounded like an animal growling the words as he kissed backup your chest while you lay breathing hard before he lifted your leg up pressing your knee into your chest as he slid himself up along your wet slick moaning at the feel of you making your whimper again.
“Should of done this a looong time ago.” He bent forward captured your mouth in a kiss so hungry you swore he was trying to devour you. His time pushed forward and he sunk himself in half way the sensation. You felt slit open in the best way, walls forced to take him.
“mmmugh.” You noise was muffled by the kiss again as he rocked gently letting you adjust to the feeling before slowly feeding you the remaining inches of him until you felt his tip kiss up again your cervix as he went to his hilt a long moan coming from both of you.
“Bucky God.”
“Yeah, fuck you feel so good Doll better then I dreamed.” Your mind blanked, he dreamed of you? You didn’t have a chance to think to long on that before he moved and he had you soring. Long deep moves that let you know he was there, firm sure movement as he gave you all of him each time.  “So tight for me, Doll.” He made you whimper and moan each time, both of his hands touching with care despite the way his hips pressed up into you.  “It’s ok, I got you.” “Oh god nghm..” It was hard not to loose yourself in the sensation as he filled you over and over, walls pushing back against him each time, Bucky managing to find the angles that sent your reeling each time as your breathing got tighter he moved like a big cat above you all rippling muscle your leg up against his chest as your own hips thrusted back to meet his. “Oh yes Doll. Yeah, just like that, move like that for me.”
His head would go back groaning when you ground your hips into his thrusts. But you felt that familiar strong need building as the heat in your blood reached boiling point.
“Bu-Bucky, Bucky..” Your voice as tight needy and raw as your hand grabbed at his thigh.
“Yeah, fuck come for me Doll. Going to make you mine, let me watch you break.” His own voice straining as his thrust got harder and a little erratic, his own edge clearly close as he waited for you to fall, needing you to fall apart for him.
You looked up at him, eyes locked on his steely blue that looked almost feral in the fire light as he took you apart, before it all got to much at the waves of pleasure crash into you pulling you under as your back arched on the floor crying out as your nails dug into his thigh, He hammered into you harder, before crying out hot ropes coursing into you painting your insides before collapsing down over the top of you.
“Jesus Christ Doll.” He swore holding himself up over you so not to crush you, your walls still grabbing as he twitched and pulsed inside you. All you did was pant and whimper as you came down. Bucky placing a softer kiss on your forehead. “Still with me Sweet thing?”
“I, think so..” You panted out, Bucky laughing a little as he ran kissed you lightly still breathing hard himself and wrapped himself around you in the blanket.
“Definitely warm now..”  You joked slowly coming back down as he pulled out and got onto his back pulling out over onto him.
“Yeah, me too.”  
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georgiapeach30513 · 1 month ago
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Trying To Save Me, Part 3
Summary: you make a deal with the white wolf
Pairings: Bucky Barnes X Reader
Rating: mature
Warnings:  explicit language, crude language, crude sexual talk, bit of a mention of a breeding kink, teasing, a bit of a chase kink, 18+ ONLY
Word Count: 4.5K
Previous
Series Masterlist
*Moodboard created by @theinheriteddutchess *dividers created by @firefly-graphics
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Bucky’s crystalline eyes peer out into the early morning frost. White and ice. The only thing he has ever seen outside his window. He was promised so many things, and while some of those promises are just right outside his door, he feels further away than he’s ever been.
His chest rises and falls peacefully despite the irritation that courses through his blood, and he tries to keep it controlled. Control is something he’s been lacking. You just make him feel so feral. You breathe the possibility of a normal world without snow, and still you refuse him. Denying your fate, and the prophecy itself. But also him. It’s infuriating.
An arm lays over his body, and it takes everything inside Bucky to not recoil in anger. They were all wrong. Sex without feeling pleasure really isn’t even worth it. They meant nothing to him, apart from the need to quench his unsatiated desire, but they never do. Their scents were disgusting, cloying even. And this one in particular is becoming the bane of his existence.
Her hand roams further down his body, traveling so low that she grips the base of his soft cock. A deep rumble erupts out his mouth, and she doesn’t get the warning. Her lips start kissing over his naked back, although it’s more eating him with her open mouth, and disgusting saliva dampening his flesh. His breathing comes out in low growls. He wants her gone. Wants her hands off him.
She moans at the feeling of his heated skin. Not realizing the heat is emanating his anger. She annoyingly whines out, “Your highness,” before pulling him towards her, so he lays on his back, and her leg swings over his body. “Fuck me,” they always desire more the next morning, and he rarely gives in to them. He’s tired and has received nothing from her. “Come on, baby, fuck me.”
“No,” he answers simply, but she grinds down viciously, continuing her pleas. Bucky allows her another few rolls of her hips before an animalistic noise barks out, and he snaps his teeth. The woman scurries off his body, pulling her tattered clothes around her. “You may leave.”
Stunned, she looks at him oddly. He hates this kind of woman. “Go!” He shouts, throwing a blanket at her. “Get out!” Gathering up the blanket, she wraps it around her body before fleeing his chambers. Meeting Steve on the way out.
“I thought I told you to leave?” Bucky says with no emotion.
“You didn’t,” Bucky peeks his eyes open, and looks at his friend blankly. “Your princess is getting more irritable, and cold in her cage. I think it’s time to cover your body, and tend to her.”
“She won’t let me,” not in the way that he wanted to tend to you. You didn’t even want him anywhere near your body, much less allow him to show you some kindness. A stubborn mule.
Steve goes to the king’s closet before tossing a few things at him, “I didn’t say fuck her. I said tend to her. Do you honestly think a girl who has lived alone, survived alone, and was taught to fear us, and you particularly you, is going to get on her knees and beg you to fuck a baby in her?”
Bucky’s brow cocks up as he stretches in the bed. He throws two legs over the bed, and reaches towards his clothes, “It’d be much easier if she did.”
“And then she wouldn’t be who the prophecy talked about, now would she?” Bucky supposes Steve is right. Doesn’t mean he wished he could easily fulfill their destiny, and his undying need to breed. It was nothing but what his body yearned to do, find its mate. So he was told that is what his unique urges meant. Maybe everyone was wrong.
“A woman like that will need time,” time that really wasn’t available. The kingdom is growing weaker from hunger.
“Do you think we have the time?” He asks, pointing towards his windows.
“I don’t think we really have a choice,” Bucky’s gaze goes blurry. Staring at absolutely nothing, but letting the words set in. He is the sole person responsible for changing the world. Well, with your help. “I don’t think taking the time to get acquainted with her, and to give her time is a bad thing. You could do with a bit more humanity.”
Bucky snorts, stretching his aching bones again. Winter is bitter in so many ways. “Might I suggest the sacred garden?”
“No,” it’s premature to take you there. To give you a taste of what could be outside. You hadn’t earned that place yet. “She can go outside, and look at what was the garden,” Steve only shrugs as he opens the door. And Bucky walks to it, getting an eye full of you glaring up at him through furrowed brows.
“You appear cold, Lumi,” what you appear is irritated that some whore came out of his bedroom again. “Although the cold does make your nipples look especially delicious,” Bucky gets a knock in the back of his head from Steve, “I apologize for my outburst. Steve, go fetch Wanda, so she can get dressed.”
You didn’t want or need her to help you again. You are fully capable of getting yourself dressed. Unless it’s yet another layer upon layer of skirts. Lacing up a corset would pose some difficulties as well. Okay, maybe for this type of dressing you did need someone.
Bucky leans up against the opposite side of the hall, his cold eyes never stopping their assessment of you. “Do you have to stare at me like you’re going to be quizzed about my anatomy?”
“Does it make you uncomfortable?”
“It’s fucking weird,” Bucky groans, but doesn’t stop looking at you. You’ve never had someone study you quite as hard as he is. He looks positively enthralled with you just sitting there, doing absolutely nothing but staring right back at him.
Wanda comes to you, her hands filled with skirts, and silks. Clearing her throat, Bucky at least turns around, giving you the tiniest bit of privacy, even though you’re in a hallway. Without speaking, you just allow Wanda to assist you in every aspect of getting dressed. Gone would be the pants, and ability to flee quickly. And even in this fortress of a castle, you didn’t have enough wits about you to get out of the winding maze.
A deep growl grows from Bucky’s chest, and you glance up to him. His face is reddened, and teeth baring, “Turn. The. Other. Way,” he grits, and you look over your shoulder to see a man retreating down the hallway.
“Wanda,” Bucky turns towards her as she pulls the silk dress over your head. Bending down, she straightens everything up before she stands upright to look at Bucky. “Have Steve bring the cage into my bedroom. I won’t have people coming up and viewing their future queen in such an intimate way.”
While you’re thankful, you want to roll your eyes. Wasn’t it him that had you on all fours, looking at your cunt while his court was in the same room? Maybe they were different. Wanda places the necklace that is actually Bucky’s leash for you over your neck before curtsying and leaving you and Bucky alone.
He surprises you by holding up a hand for you to take, and greedily, you accept. For as cold as you always are, Bucky’s hands are more like a crackling fire. Everything about him is warm. Except his cold eyes and demeanor. His body, and movements radiate heat. And while he’s alone with you, even his attitude isn’t quite so cold.
“You’re not the only one thrust into this prophecy, you know?” A decades old prophecy that had cursed your father, and family. And cursed Bucky. What a stupid curse to affect the entire kingdoms. Kingdom. Seeing how there’s only one now. “I didn’t want to marry you either.”
You scoff, looking over towards him, “I mean,” he stutters. Did you actually make him rethink his approach? “Imagine being told your whole life you were to marry someone you didn’t know. Imagine having this madness consume you as you searched the snow for one person. Wildlings are a bit more adept in the winter than most of us here. My people have become spoiled and lazy on how to protect themselves, relying only on the castle, and our army.”
“You’re using ‘they’ as if you’re not doing the same thing,” he huffs out of a laugh, and you wish he would tell you more. There’s more to Bucky than you initially thought. But his hot and cold behavior are more than you can stand. “What do you know about the life outside of these walls?”
“You’d be surprised. A king doesn’t just sit on his throne, while everyone else around him gets worked to the bones. No, I like to dive in and just be as big a part of something as my soldiers. Sometimes more,” you highly doubt that. You even doubted that Bucky went outside the castle city. He stayed inside the walls for protection. None of the wildlings were particularly fond of the king and his court. Not that they ever could control the wildlings. It’s a cruel and harsh world out there. Most just leave them to their devices.
“You doubt me. I’ve been further past the castle walls than most would believe. I’ve always had this ability to look completely different if I will it. Nobody ever wonders if it’s me,” it isn’t quite difficult to accomplish that. If he dressed in different clothes than his finery, then he would blend in with the crowd. “What was it like to live out there?”
“You live in constant fear,” Bucky’s gaze turns towards the front, ignoring you beside him. “Especially once my tribe was killed off. Malik was murdered, and I think I know why now. My mother — she died of pneumonia. Jarrod was the last to die, or maybe he lived. He fell through some ice, so I’m assuming He perished. Everyone else it was different things. We were nomads, so we were more vulnerable in ways.”
“Why were you nomads?”
He looks back towards you, and your mouth quirks up, “We were trying to avoid you,” you chuckle, realizing how stupid you had been. If you were always going to end up in his clutches, why run? Why allow yourself to waste away out there, becoming more weak. In here, you could fight back. “Seems pointless now.”
“Maybe that’s the way it was intended,” he swings open the door to a smaller more intimate dining area, waiting for you to enter first. He’s such a strange and difficult man. He’d almost be likable if it wasn’t his quick need to go completely feral with sexual comments.
You retreat into your mind as you think about the alternatives, weighing out the pros and cons of being here. With him. Who would you be if you decided to let destiny control your life? Could you kill Bucky? Would that end this stupid prophecy? Allow him to live long enough for winter to be over, and then kill him. That doesn’t sound like the worst idea. Not by a long shot.
“We should get some food in you. You need to gain weight,” for him to see if gaining weight would round you out enough for your first cycle. You’re not blind in his thinking. But if the food here is as good as it was the other night, it would be worth it.
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You take a peek towards the king as he guides you through the icy gardens. It is unsettling. Frozen statues, and fountains. The trees are more of a shell than a living thing. Everything has a sharpness to it. Pointed lines where they should be soft and curved, instead now they had icicles growing off of them. Giving them a nearly demonic appearance.
Bucky walks quietly with you. His breathing constantly changes as he starts to say something to you, but then changes his mind. He’s been a bit strange since breakfast. Normally he never shuts up with his disgusting tongue, and now he can’t come up with the words to say.
“How did you remain chaste?” That didn’t last long. He seriously is a pig. “Especially when you were alone.”
“Do you think it was easy to not find company in a man?” His brows turn into hard lines as he stares at a frozen fountain. “You men are all the same. You can’t think straight when there’s warm flesh around you.”
“It sure beats the cold,” he mumbles more to himself, but you hear. You hear everything. “So you’ve never once thought about inviting some man into your tent with you?” You laugh, starting to walk away from him. He would open his mouth and ruin the somewhat nice morning.
“What’s so funny?”
“Sex has blinded you, Your Highness. You don’t think women are worth anything more than laying on their back, and taking your seed. Waiting for them to become round and full of you. Can you not look out here and see why that is the worst thing that you could possibly do? Why would I bring a child into this chaos of winter? Why would I allow myself the vulnerability to submit to some man.”
“You’d enjoy it,” you scoff, turning a corner, right into a frozen hedge maze. Sex could not be all that great, not when you had the consequences of raising a child in this cold hel. Bucky stays right on your heels. He breathes in deeply, and if you were a crazy person, you’d assume he was scenting you like a wild dog would. “Oh, you’d enjoy being on your knees as I fuck into your warmth. Your toes curling right as I hit that spot deep inside you that makes your eyes go cross, and your fingers can’t grab onto anything to steady you enough.”
“Just sex, hmm?” You’d heard that there is so much more than the physical activity of a man entering inside of you. You’d heard of men that feasted between a woman’s legs, while she goes outside of her body from blinding pleasure.
He snarls as he walks in front of you, sniffing up your body before you spin around and go down a different way in the maze. “What’s got you so riled up?” He spits out, but doesn’t follow you.
“Excuse me?” You ask, stopping to look over your shoulder. “What do you mean riled up?”
“I mean that your heart is speeding up,” you place a hand on your heart before you angrily walk faster. “That vein on your neck is pulsing just as quickly as the throb between your legs,” he didn’t know shit. He knew nothing about you.
“Oh, I see, you want romance. You don’t want to be the only one to submit. You want me down on my knees while I drink your essence. Have my tongue driving into your tight little hole before sucking on that pretty little clit,” you turn right, practically running to get away from him. “Would it be so bad to see me feasting on you like a starving wolf, while my eyes stare up at you like a helpless lamb?”
You wish he would shut up. He is clouding your brain and judgment, and you can’t think with his voice ringing in your ear. Turn left. Starting to pick up speed to get away from him, “I wouldn’t run if I were you.”
“Fuck you,” you flee. You run as fast as you can in these stupid skirts. Why were there so many layers? Why are you here alone? He could take you right here, right now, in this maze and nobody would be any the wiser. Left.
You peek over your shoulder, and see no one. Picking up your speed when you take another right. Running deeper and deeper into the center of the maze, and further from any exit or entrance. You need to be back in the castle. Back where there could be an audience, and they might stop Bucky. Away from him alone.
He’s wrong. “I’m not wrong, Lumi!” Fuck him. That was just luck. He had no idea what thoughts you had. You stop in the center of the maze, in a big round opening as you spin around. There are too many options on which way to go. It hurts your head to think about. Taking one step forward, Bucky lands in front of you like a wild man.
You cower backwards before ultimately falling on your ass. You hate him and his ability to humiliate you. “What are you doing?”
“You were going the wrong way,” you open your mouth to speak before he covers it. “If you say, ‘fuck you,’ again to me, I just might. Don’t tempt me. You’re a complete, and utter mess,” he lends you a hand, but you refuse it, and stand up on your own.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he circles around your body, his crystal eyes dark pools of lust. He bares his teeth as he sniffs you again.
“I can smell your pussy from here,” Bucky looks down at your body with the most devilish grin. “Don’t act like you don’t want me to rut into you like a dog. You’re quivering, slick, and swollen, and just so curious about what my cock will feel like in your cunt.”
“What would you know?” You ask him as he continues to circle around your body. A wolf playing with his food before he attacks. It’s haunting, and you try not to think about just how terrified you are.
“I know that you can try to deny who you’re destined to be. But you will fail. And you will let me mount you like the bitch in heat you are,” you glare at him, letting him walk around you again before he stands right in front of you. His stature towering over you.
“You’re disgusting,” you whisper, but his grin gets even more menacing.
“Yeah? Then what does that make you?” You didn’t fully understand what he meant by that comment. “I bet if I just settled my hand over you cunt, I could feel how hot you are. Aren’t you curious to know why your pussy is fluttering so much?”
Yeah, but you weren’t going to tell him that. “It’s who you were meant to be. Mine. Yeah, you’re making me completely feral with your refusal to mate with me. I’m going crazy here, smelling you, and feeling the vibrations off your pussy. You’re destined to be mine, and even your body knows that. It knows how amazing it will feel to have me buried so deep into you, there’s nothing that will separate us.”
He sniffs again, smiling when he looks down. You don’t know how he knows, or what it is he’s doing, but it hurts. There’s an ache so deep in your core that you squish your thighs together. Bouncing back and forth on your feet, and it offers you a little comfort. “What’s wrong princess? Is your body aching for friction?”
“Your words!” You scream, pushing at his chest, but he grabs your wrists, and pulls your body flush with his. “I hate you!” He settles your hand over his heart, and he’s just as hot and calm as ever. The beat steady, low, and barely there. He must be inhuman.
“Yes, while you’re heart is racing out of your chest, mine is soft. Are you jealous?” No. You’re infuriated that he has a hold of you. He flattens a hand on your chest, shushing you when he feels just how fast it is beating.
“I hate you,” you repeat. You hate him so much. You’re forced to be at his side for all eternity? Fuck that.
“I know you do, but I can offer you something that no one else ever has.”
“A cock? Several men have offered, and one even got his cut off,” Bucky’s maniacal chuckle echoes out into the icy garden before he bends his knee, and yanks you over his thigh. Hands on your hips he starts moving you over his leg, and you annoyingly sigh.
“Relief,” he’s such a cocky asshole, but this isn’t too bad. It’s quite nice, and you know you’re making yourself a fool in front of him, but this is the most relaxed you have ever felt. It’s the best you’ve ever felt as warmth builds up from the inside out. “Doesn’t that feel nice, Lumi?”
“Unfortunately,” he growls before he buries his face into your neck. His lips are so warm despite the frigid air outside. He softly kisses up your neck before nibbling right below your ear, and you whimper when he pierces the skin slightly. You claw at his arms to drive you harder over his extended leg. While it feels good, surely it could feel better.
“Now, imagine yourself sitting on my knee, facing me while I pinch those pretty little nipples of yours. Urging you to go harder and faster on my knee, while you make such a filthy mess of my leg. You’re such a desperate thing, in need of more pleasure than this. Your pent up energy has weakened you, and you don’t realize it it. Don’t you want that, princess? Don’t you want to feel this good all the time?”
“Uh huh,” idiot! Why did you whine and say that? You are stronger than the primal feeling burrowing into your gut, well, more like your pussy at this point. You have always fought this urge, and now you’re a blubbering idiot that can’t contain your pleasure. Chocolate is better than this. Okay, maybe not. But this is cruel. Sex is a basic instinct, and he’s using it against you.
“You’ll look so pretty swollen with my pups,” an odd name to call children. “Together we can end this dreadful winter.”
You have a duty to the world. You could end winter. You alone, well, and Bucky could end the suffering. Are you ready to relent? To give in to him? Him of all people? The world is spinning, and if this feels good, what would laying down with him feel like?
“Only if…” you begin, trying to catch your breath. Your voice is wrecked, and you can’t think clearly. You are not the whining girl that lays down with a man for protection. You have a duty. This man is ruining you, and your new clothes. “Ultimatum.”
He stops his movement, pushing you off his leg, and straightens himself up. You’re thankful a tiny bit about the halt, but you also whimper because you want to feel more. Cursing yourself for wanting to continue the movement.
“I’m listening,” he arrogantly says. You straighten out your skirts before standing up straight, and looking into his darkened eyes.
“No more whores,” he nods his head once. He’d been waiting on you to ask that of him, and he will gladly oblige. “We go at my pace, not yours.”
“You go very slow,” Bucky tsks. Time is of the essence. The world is blanketed in a blizzard, and you wanted to be romanced.
“We go at my pace!” It isn’t a yell, but you raise your voice enough. “And you make me fall for you.”
“Marriage isn’t about love, Lumi,” it could be. But maybe you didn’t possess the power to fall for him either.
Backwards thinking of the royals. “Is it purely about pleasure then?”
“It’s about expanding your family legacy. Not to mention ending this snow globe we’re in.”
“Fine. If you can’t make me fall for you, then you need to make me tolerate you enough. I won’t be disrespected by you. I won’t be just a slab of meat for you to fuck. I will be your equal. If both of us end this terrible winter, then I’m just as important as you are, and I’ll be treated as such,” he snarls, but nods his head. “And you can quit being so fucking cruel.”
“Is it cruel of me to give you some relief?” He thought he was being kind to you. You needed it. You need more.
“Cruel is showing my pussy off to your court. I don’t want that,” he smirks. You might have been slightly humiliated, but you also liked everyone staring at you as your king inspected you. “Cruel is smelling me.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t smell so delicious. Your arousal is strong, and oh so sweet. You’re such a desperate little bitch that needs…” his fucking mouth!
“And can you quit talking like that? Ugh, you don’t make me want to fuck you, you repulse me when you call me a-a-a desperate little bitch.”
He chuckles, and nods his head. Is that so? “What’s so funny?”
“Because when I say it, and also when you say it, did you know that your heart rate peaks?” No it doesn’t. “It does. You’re curious. You want to know what it means. You want to not just take my cock, but also my,” he stops his words, and shakes his head. He walks right past you and back into the maze. His what?
“Well, lets go. It’s getting cold, and we have some sleeping arrangements to deal with.” We? “Yes, we. Your kennel can be put in my room, and maybe if you promise to behave, I’ll let you sleep in the bed with me.”
“I’d rather not.”
“Hmm,” he shrugs, taking a right into the maze. No, you’d rather be on his knee while he coaxes you through your first orgasm.
“What?” He’s frustring you. Know-it-all.
“Wouldn’t you like to know how good grinding on my thigh would be with your bare pussy?” Yes. No. Ugh! He’s obnoxious. “I know I would. I’d love to see just how wet you get.”
“You’re talking disgusting again,” you remind him. This is only going to work if he doesn’t have his foul mouth.
“How about I make a deal?” You’d prefer it if he didn’t. “I can talk filthy when it’s just us. You can say what you want, too, princess, and your scent is getting that much sweeter. You’re heating up so fucking much. It’s delicious. I think you need to get out of your head. Let me privately offer you some relief.”
“Only if I ask for it or you,” he doesn’t quite enjoy that thought. He’d much rather have you be putty in his hands. But you can handle him. His filthy mouth is annoying if not invigorating. But maybe you can tame the beast that resides inside him. But even your white wolf didn’t act like this. Bucky always seemed like he was in a need to rut.
“Am I allowed a pet?”
“No,” he answers shortly. “There are to be no animals in the castle. We’re struggling to feed our people. We don’t need another mouth to feed.”
Hmm, he says that, but the wolf always finds a way to you. Bucky will just have to deal, or you might feed him to your wolf.
Next
Masterlist
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majestyeverlasting · 3 months ago
Text
𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧 | 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬
Paring: Bucky Barnes x Reader [established relationship]
Summary: During a getaway from the bustle of the city, you can’t shake the looming suspicion that there’s more behind this sweet escape [3.6k]
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A/N: Haven't written for Bucky in a while, but it's where it all began. If you like fluff, sensuality, and a reasonable helping of angst, this one’s for you. Enjoy!
Summer seems to have slipped away before you’ve had the chance to say goodbye. But it lingers in many ways, one of your favorites being the gentle tan of Bucky’s skin. Reminiscent of days at the beach and lingering outside simply because you can.
The air has grown much cooler now, the sun at least seeming to have slipped further away. It’s a suitable enough excuse for the way you’ve become more persistent in your pursuit of his warmth, even now, as you tuck your nose into the center of his bare chest. Or maybe it’s your way of quelling the irrational fear that he too would somehow slip away. 
No matter how many new beginnings there were, how many times he walked away from the call of duty, the same inevitability circled back around. One that entailed him leaving to be who others needed him to be. You’d taught yourself to worry less, to enjoy the now. 
The eggshell sheets sink off your frame as you force yourself away from him, sitting upright and welcoming the slight stiffness that comes along with a good night’s sleep. The curtains are drawn closed, and it's early enough in the morning that light doesn’t pour in too strongly from around the edges. There’s an ambience to the dimness, one the mourning doves outside contribute to with their calls. 
Sensing your withdrawal, Bucky rolls onto his back, the soft linen pooling at his hips. They fall just beneath the faint protrusions of the bones. But he doesn’t open his eyes. Not even when you brace yourself, mattress dipping, to lean down and press kisses along his waist in plush light drops. You trail them up to his jaw, his face growing hotter with each kiss, leaving no hope of quelling the tingling beneath his skin.  
Just as his eyes flutter open, you straighten up and slip out of bed away from his reach. He watches the pretty line of your back as you saunter towards the bathroom—laughing. First at him, then with him, as you peek over your shoulder to where he lays flushed with a blossoming smile. Moments later, you find yourselves under the warm spray of the shower. 
By the time you make it outside, there’s a fleeting ombre of colors in the sky. Pink and orange closer to the horizon and pale blue everywhere else. It’s something you have to make out through the trees as you sit on the porch bench. They’re everywhere, tall and strong. Your legs are draped over Bucky’s lap. He absentmindedly strokes your shin with his thumb as you redirect your gaze back to the travel brochure you’d carried out with you. 
It was something you’d picked up at the welcome center earlier this week when you arrived in Chicot County. The last stint at this safehouse was brief. A result of a threat that ended up being dissolved almost as soon as it arose. This time around, the two of you were here because you wanted to be. Some time away from the city, Bucky had said. So you packed up the truck, secured his motorcycle in the bed, and hit the highway. 
Upon noticing the distant way he’s begun looking out at the yard, you point to a name listed under the breakfast directory. A promising diner. “I feel good about this one,” you say. 
Bucky narrows his eyes. “You sure? ‘Cause I don’t know if I can survive room temperature eggs again.” His amusement remains from yesterday’s pick. The eggs might not have been hot off the stove, but you’d been smiling across the table from each other nevertheless. Grateful for good company and a solid playlist playing overhead. 
“Could’ve fooled me. Your plate was spotless by the time we left.” You poke his side. When he hardens himself against reacting, you do it again. 
“Okay, alright,” Bucky says through a smile that betrays him, curling in on himself.
Satisfied, you admire the way his hair falls past his ears now. Only his beard is peppered with specks of white. The black shirt he’s wearing loosely contours around his muscles, and he’s got black cargos to match. He looks good like this in the early morning light. 
Swinging your legs from his lap, you scoot closer with the intent to kiss him. But he leans away with the ghost of sparkle in his eyes. It’s as good a poker face as he can manage. 
When he stands, you follow, the porch creaking under your footsteps as he leads you back inside. The moment the front door shuts, he presses you against it, dipping his head to capture your lips in a soft kiss. He never gives in fully, remaining right on the cusp of where sweetness surrenders itself to the deeper urgency of desire. 
“Can we take your bike?” you murmur against his warm lips. 
He pecks the corner of your mouth, your chin. “Whatever you want.” He punctuates with a final peck on your lips. 
•••
Everything about the diner is lovely. The food, the staff, the patrons. That’s what makes time seem to glide by so fast. Pictures of people from the community hang on the walls, and different shelves bear charming trinkets. The two of you are seated in a booth along the front window, watching people flutter in and out as your meals begin to digest. Bucky’s legs brush against your own where they’re extended beneath the table. 
Soon, a minivan pulls up right out front. After the couple gets out, the back doors slide open and five kids pour out wearing smiles. The oldest boy can’t be any more than twelve. The two youngest are still in their pajamas. Bucky’s lips upturn. 
“I used to want a bunch of siblings,” he admits.
You turn towards him. “Really?”
He nods, almost shyly. “Always seemed like it’d be a lot of fun,” he says. “Nevermind we lived in a shoebox in Brooklyn.”
You offer a fond tilt of your head. “Would you still have wanted to be the oldest, or the youngest?”
His answer doesn’t take long. “Oldest.” The sound of laughter marks the family’s entrance. “I was eleven when Becca was born and it was the best day of my life.” He’s quiet for a moment, reminiscing. “She’s what made me realize there was something outside of myself that I wanted to protect.” 
A small smile pulls at your lips. “That’s really sweet.” 
He nods, tapping his knuckles against the table a few absentminded times. Then a weighted look settles in his eyes, like there’s something else he needs to say. It evokes a sense of knowing within you, even though nothing has revealed itself. The suspicion doesn’t unsettle you. Instead, you ride the wave, figuring if you’re swept out to the sea and the two of you diverge for a short while, it’s nothing you haven’t braved before.
You extend your hand across the table and leave it face up. Bucky takes it, calloused palms against your softer ones, rubbing the back of your hand. No words pass between, and you’re happy to join him in his silence. You’d wait forever if you had to. 
He gives your hand a squeeze. “Just thinking.”
“You do that quite a lot.” There’s a lilt to your voice. 
On your way out the diner, the oldest boy from the family locks eyes with Bucky, face glowing with recognition. But the kid doesn’t say anything or make a scene, just lifts his hand in a wave that barely rises above the table. Bucky waves back. And the boy grins, knowing he’d just seen a superhero in the flesh. 
•••
The ride back to the house is even prettier than when you first came. Bucky takes a different route so you can pass alongside the calm waters of Lake Chicot. There’s no words to express how beautiful it is, especially with wind rushing against your bodies. Bucky is steady and solid where your arms are wrapped around his middle. There’s a practiced ease to the way he mans the handlebars as the engine rumbles on. 
When you make it to the straight shot half a mile away from the house, he accelerates for the thrill of it. It feels like you’re flying. But Bucky isn’t taking you home at all. He zooms past the turn that leads to the long driveway and continues onwards to an unknown destination. 
Dust kicks up behind you when he eventually turns onto a narrow dirt road. It grows dimmer, the trees stretching upwards on either side blocking out the sky. Bucky slows down to an easy cruise. Despite the questions that arise in your head, you continue hanging on and enjoying the ride.    
You eventually pull onto a plot of land that rests along the lake. There’s a makeshift parking pad that overlooks the water, and a sloping trail that leads down to a grassy space that sits closer to the bank. Tucked into the trees is a small wooden cabin with a thick lock on the door. 
Once you climb off the motorcycle and secure your helmet on its hook, you take a thoughtful look around, relishing the breeze. A comfortable silence lingers between you until Bucky combs a hand through his disheveled hair, gaze falling on you. 
“I never had the chance to bring you out here. It’s real peaceful.” He pauses for the soft slosh of the lake’s shore, the rustling of the trees. “Thought you’d appreciate it.” 
“Where exactly is here?” you ask. 
Chuckling, Bucky nods in the direction of the cabin as he begins heading that way. The dirt crunches beneath your feet until you reach the grass, twigs snapping. Rather than pulling out a key, Bucky presses his thumb to the underside of the lock and it releases. 
The air is thick as you step inside, having been shut in for so long. Even then, as it thins, you can smell the familiar undernotes you always associate with Bucky’s skin. Almost everything is contained within the four walls of one main room. There’s a small kitchen composed of a couple cabinets, a sink, and a stove. The kitchen table is small with one chair. A twin sized bed constitutes what could be a living room. 
As you soak it all in, your eyes catch sight of a polaroid picture on the wall near the bed. You take a few steps closer, footsteps clunking gently against the wood. 
“Awwww, it’s us.” Both of you look so different. Bucky’s hair is shorter. “Back in Brooklyn before we started dating.”  
His stomach flutters when you peer back at him, still gushing. “Yeah. I used to stake out here during jobs.” The look in your eyes insists he continues. “Liked the town so much I eventually requested another safehouse. A nicer one that’d accommodate the two of us—the one we’re staying in now,” he says, thoughtful. 
“It’s definitely been a while.”  
You hum in agreement as you walk around. There isn’t much, but it’s enough. “What about the bathroom?” He points to a door that you’d completely glossed over, the grain of the wood blending in with the rest of the walls. 
Then, in the corner of the room, a small handle on the floor catches your eye. Bucky follows your gaze. “There’s a storage room down below.” He pulls his lower lip between his teeth, debating with himself. “For weapons. Did you wanna see that too?” 
You lift an easy shoulder. “Why not?” 
After pulling the hatch door open, Bucky descends the ladder first to get the lights. The rungs creak with his movements. When it’s your turn, he stands at the bottom, guiding you down with his hands hovering at your waist. 
Back on the ground, all you see are guns. Everywhere. Different makes and models. They span every inch of available space on the walls, forming an extensive array. Some look so intricate and peculiar that it’s hard to believe they’re functional. A glass display case rests in the center of the room that houses an impressive collection of knives. The blades are so clean they glint. 
The entire room is a testament to a skillset that exceeds the most practiced among men. Defying the very bounds of human capability and teetering over into a league of its own. Yet for all the times you’ve ever looked at Bucky, you’ve never perceived him as a threat. Or as anything other than human even though the hands of science had sought to strip that away from him. 
He’s already looking at you when you turn back to him. “Wow.” You breathe out a laugh. Bucky’s eyes nervously flitter to the ground. “Do you know how to use all of them? Like, even the fancier ones?” 
His bicep flexes as he rubs the back of his neck. “I do.” Then, he finally comes around to the fact that you’re impressed, not afraid. He smiles a little too. “They don’t hand ‘em out to just anybody.” 
A snort escapes you, and you push his chest. He captures your wrist in the process, guiding your arm up to hook around his neck. You raise the other on your own accord, taking a step closer as his strong hands settle on your waist. He touches his forehead to yours. 
“Can’t go around talking about this place now that you’ve seen it.” He feigns seriousness because he knows you never would. 
“That's a bummer. I was thinking about hosting a potluck.” 
A startled laugh bubbles out of him, coated in fondness. There were no secrets regarding who he was or what he’d done, but reality had a way of piercing through to the bone when the evidence was as tangible as these four walls. When it was hanging all around you, each weapon having been graced by the hands that now held you. 
He exhales. “I love you.” 
•••
The two of you end up on a blanket down by the lake. You, on your back with your knees propped up, and Bucky upright with his legs stretched out. Yet again, having fallen into thought. You remain like that for a while, embracing the stillness. Soon, he can feel your eyes settle on him like you’ve figured something out. 
“This whole trip,” you start, groaning as you sit up. “It’s not really just because, is it?” Only a small fraction of your tone is unsure, willing to welcome the possibility that you’d been reading into his contemplative hazes all wrong. 
“You have to go away again.” 
Bucky shifts, his muscles rippling beneath his shirt. There’s a few seconds where he doesn’t say anything at all. “Yeah, I…yeah.” It’s the truth. That’s all he’s got left, all he ever offered to you. It was just harder to present it this time. “At the end of the week.”
This past year of simply existing and traveling with you had been a luxury that settled deep in his bones. He didn’t want the thought of his departure to taint what time you had left.  
“A few weeks ago I ignored a call,” he starts. “Then the same unknown number kept calling and calling.” He motions with his hand as he speaks. “So I finally picked up the phone.” 
In your chest, seeds of suspicion have taken root and grown into a realized truth. Snaking through your rib cage, settling beneath your skin. “And you agreed to whatever they asked.”
He nods, eyes meeting yours. 
“I was trying to gauge when to tell you. Didn’t want it to be the only thing on your mind.” Guilt spreads through him when your jaw ticks and you look out towards the water. He continues with a slight waver in his voice. “I figured if I at least got us down here, we could stay until I got a better idea of what’s going on.” 
“In case anybody tried to bother us in Brooklyn,” he adds. You hum a small sound. 
“You can go back if you want. That’ll be your choice to make,” he realizes. “I’m sorry.” 
As a gentle breeze passes through, you take his hand and pull it closer to you. He watches as you open his palm and trace the lines there. Your touch is so light it sends small currents of electricity up his arm. 
“You wanna know something,” you murmur, his fingers twitching as you continue on with your slow, thoughtful trails. “I had a hunch. I don’t know if that’s better or worse than certainty.” His breath stills when your finger does. “I guess now I know for sure though, right?” Your acceptance is underscored by a soft edge. 
“Yeah.” It’s a rasped breath. 
He almost doesn’t believe your somber smile because there’s a hint of levity woven around the outskirts, stuffed between the cracks. “You could’ve told me sooner so you wouldn’t be ruminating about it.” You raise his hand to your lips and press a kiss to the center. “I promise I would’ve been okay.”  
You’d already experienced it all—unexpectedly waking up alone, seeing him off within a moment's notice, being told in July that he wouldn’t be home for Christmas. Maybe things were different this time because he’d gotten such a profound glimpse of what life would be like if he hung it all up. Both of you knew there was really no such thing, but it was nice to pretend. Your brains couldn’t tell the difference. 
“So are you okay?” he asks. 
“Are you okay?” Bucky huffs a low laugh at that. 
Going on missions didn’t phase him. He knew how to fight. It was something he did well. Sometimes he hated himself for the primal rush it gave him, the itch it fulfilled. There was something about being presented with a target—an objective—even after all these years, that he could never back away from. If there was a job to do, he was going to get it done. By being an equalizer, an asset. 
You, with your pretty smiles and steady convictions, were the first person to truly make realize that wasn’t all he had to be. Fighting was easy, but being still was harder. He’d realized he wanted a balance of both, and that he was allowed to have it. There was no judge waiting for him to choose one over the other. Being in a relationship with him meant nurturing this duality without attempting to sever the two ends or stomp one out. They formed a worthwhile whole that was embedded within his being.
“Only if you are,” he finally says. 
“I’m okay,” you promise. Then you tilt your head. “You look like you don’t believe me.”  
Bucky exhales. “I really was gonna tell you sooner, I just…couldn’t,” he says, shaking his head in hindsight's clarity. “You have the right to be upset.” 
“I’m not, Buck. I wish I could be, but I’m not,” you admit. “You’re still here. It’d only be a waste of time.” You angle more towards him, leaning in a little closer. “I think something might be a little wrong with me anyways. I kinda just want to kiss you...” 
His brows pinch together before he smiles all boyish, unable to help it. Like he can’t quite believe you’re real. “Is that what you wanna do? We can do that.” He cups your cheek, running his thumb along your lower lip.   
You hum, leaning into his touch. “But maybe that wouldn’t be productive given the circumstances.” There’s a playful lilt to your voice that he’s grateful for. That you’re grateful to have found yourself. It was mending in times like this. “Feels like you should be doing target practice or something. Or maybe I can hold up some boxing mitts for you—” 
In what feels like seconds, he has you on your back, hovering above you. Your purse your lips to keep from breaking into a lovesick smile. “Wrestling works too,” you manage. There’s a flutter in your stomach from his display of strength alone. 
Bucky’s eyes are the prettiest shade of blue as he gazes down at you. Lines gather at the corners of them as he smiles, his hair falling in a short curtain framing his face. Right along with the warmth in his chest, settles the premature weight of missing you. He doesn’t let it take over, or try to push it away. It’s the very thing that grounds him in the moment all the more. It would eventually be the spark that made him find his way back to you.
He runs a finger along your jawline, making you shiver. Then he whispers against your lips, “I liked your first idea.” As your lips part further in an exhale, he nips at them one at a time, licking just past them. Testing the waters before diving in.  
You disappear in the warmth of his lips, his tongue, the scratch of his beard. He squeezes your thigh, your waist, then cradles your jaw as best as he can. Everything is tender. Like he’s aware of the solidity of your presence but distantly afraid you might break. Bucky’s always been that way.
He eventually pulls away, allowing you to find your breath. Rolling off onto his back as the warmth simmers in his cheeks. Rather than finding words to fill the space, you bask in this secluded moment, both staring up at the same sky. Grateful that, at least for now, you still had a little more time.     
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