#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 · 3 months 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 · 3 months 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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buckysm · 15 days ago
Text
2:15 am (and i miss you)
ᯓ★part one, part two,
ᯓ★ Bucky Barnes x fem ex hydra AVENGER reader
ᯓ★ part one word count 6k+
ᯓ★a/n: junie’s first post— so please show some love— i hope you like!! my inbox is always open to chat! (minor edits on jan 27)
ᯓ★ summary: you and bucky strike an unlikely friendship during sleepless nights, and shared cigarettes. when crisis strikes the team is surprises by your hidden bond (i wrote this bc of a little fantasy of being in a secret situationship with bucky and the team finding out when bucky goes feral after reader goes missing during a mission)
ᯓ★ warnings/ tags/ tropes for the whole series: canon? what canon?, haters to lovers -- except you never hated him and he just resented you-- midnight rendezvous, friends to lovers, Anxiety, angst and fluff and smut,  Bucky Needs a Hug, Protective Bucky Barnes Bucky Barnes issues related to past trauma, not so platonic cuddling, slow burn, jealous Bucky Barnes Miscommunication, Mentions of torture off screen (to be added and expanded as i post part two) NOT BETA READ
These are the hands of fate/ You're my Achilles heel/ This is the golden age of something good and right and real
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It started with a cigarette.
It started when he had lent you a lighter. He did not smoke, and you didn’t ask him why he had one.  
For him, it started months before then.
Bucky was barely coping when you joined the team. His days muddled by an eternal haze of anger and frustration…His life had been stolen from him, along with his memories from before. He did not feel like he deserved redemption. He had done terrible things, had had terrible things done to him.
He found himself disassociating whenever he wasn’t on a mission. He did not feel real; he couldn’t joke around and feel good without betraying his past. Yet, his past was real, it happened. But Bucky couldn’t just move on, couldn’t just exist without the churning in his gut telling him he was dirty, he was dripping in sin, tarnished by the red in his ledger, filthy to the point of no return.
When he was told about you, his body turned taut with trepidation. Two sides of the same coin. You were injected with serum just like him. Made to do things and had things done to you just like him. And he had heard of you. They had called you serpiente, the serpent, the snake. You were deadly, never made a mistake. No one knew any identifying details about you, not even your gender. 
And it was his mistake, thinking you were a man. He yearned to be understood; maybe he would find companionship in you.
But then, you were not a man. The first time he beheld you, he had just finished a mission for Fury. Secret and dirty, he felt right at home doing SHIELD’s grunt work.
You were walking down the compound, side to side with Black Widow. He had assumed you were one of her brethren, maybe you had trained with her, a black widow yourself. Tony Stark pranced a few paces before you.
“Soldier, good you’re here! Come meet our newest recruit!”
Your smile was disarmingly bright. Pretty. He felt himself grow cold with fury. It was a smile that came easily to you. And your eyes, frustratingly  soft. You seemed at peace with yourself, and he hated that.  
He just stared at you in response. Eyes hard. Waiting for you to react to his lack of reciprocity. You didn’t bite his hook, just slightly pursed your lips and took his glare in stride. 
“Nice to meet you, Stark was telling me about you, all good things, don’t worry. But I had heard about you from before—you know—we do have in common h-”
“We have nothing in common.” He snarled before walking away, fuming. How dare you? How dare you make chit-chat about the thing that haunted his life. Every waking hour, every nightmare he was haunted by his past. And you wanted to…what? Talk about it over jokes? No. He decided you had nothing in common.
Maybe your body count was higher than his, and he chose to ignore the elephant in the room. The fact that you were a beautiful woman and that that could be a weapon as much as it could be a vulnerability.
He hated you a bit more each time he saw you get along with the rest of the team. How dare you? 
He had thought, had been so sure, that the reason he was disliked was because of his past. But that wasn’t it, was it? Because you and the black widow seemed to do just fine. Maybe he was just broken, and maybe you had been too, but you had fixed yourself just fine. Parallel wounds, yours had healed, while his had festered like a virus. How dare you?
His despise grew with each smile, each laugh, each time you were slapped on the back.
Everything came to a head when he found you on the balcony. He had thought it was his balcony. His.
It wasn’t a balcony, more of a ledge. A floor that had been destroyed during a hulk mishap, had not been fixed, and did not look like it would be anytime soon. 
The wind was strong. You stood at the edge, facing the precipice. You seemed so peaceful. 
He stared at your profile, illuminated by the city lights. Your expression was sad. He had never seen it like that. Your lips tight, eyes fluttered shut. Were you about to jump?
He walked toward you, deliberately moving his limbs so that you heard his footsteps.
You turned unhurriedly, your eyes opening slowly. There was a small moment where he saw you, your unguarded face. He was too involved in his stupor he had not considered the possibility of it all being a facade. But months had passed, and your mask hadn’t slipped. Until now.
It was only a fraction of a vulnerable moment before you schooled your features. And it angered him for some reason. Seeing you so easily slip into the practiced mask. It made him just like the rest of them, taking you at face value, not digging deeper past your pretty face, sparkling eyes, and gleaming smile. But then he was angry at both himself for not looking past and you for pretending. 
Before he could stop himself, before he could think, words were coming out of his mouth faster than he processed them. 
“Do not do that, don’t do that.”
You sighed, your mask falling to one of disdain. You looked disappointed in him, exasperated. It was a look of derision, he felt scorned, and yet it was better than the fake platitudes. 
“Do what? Now, what am I doing that deserves your anger?”
“Pretending,” Bucky grunted.
You rolled your eyes and scoffed. “So what am I supposed to do according to you, huh?” You walked away from the ledge toward him. He towered over you, head lowered to meet your defiant gaze. “Am I supposed to growl, frown, and hate myself for things I can’t control? Well, guess what, been there, done that! And, hey—guess again what happened. I hated it. So what if I am faking it? Maybe if I fake it hard enough, it’ll come true.”
“What’ll come true?” Bucky asked beside himself, snarling.
“Wanting to live, not letting them win. Because if I hate myself, then they win.” Your angry gaze wavered, turning sad. You looked away from him towards the city skyline. “I’ll go now, leave you alone to your self-hatred and whatever….” You started making your way to the battered elevator doors.
Bucky sighed, exasperated. “No, stay. I’m sorry.”
You had stopped walking away, your footsteps silent, but some sixth sense told him you had in fact paused.
He turned toward you. “I’m sorry.” He echoed.
You nodded, moving towards the ledge and sitting on it.
── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──
“Careful there, doll face.” His voice was gruff. “Don’t want you to fall off.”
You stiffened slightly, taken off guard, not for the first time tonight. The sweet nickname coupled with his harsh voice made heat rise to your cheeks. You decided to appear as if you took it in stride. Not wanting him to know just how much his words meant to you. Wanting to hear him call you that forever.
Because as much as you told yourself otherwise, it had hurt when he brushed you off. You had looked up to him. 
You didn’t have any memories of your past before the experiments or the training, so maybe it was different for him. He had a life that was taken away from him — and you were just now learning to have one.
You heard about him, heard him even.  Heard his screams sometimes. Your handlers wanted to teach you a lesson of what would happen when you didn’t behave.
It was clear he did not remember you. Why would he? When you passed each other in the hydra bases, he didn’t know who you were; that was part of your deal. No one expected a pretty girl to have a body count as high as yours. 
Bucky had killed about 20-something people, important ones. You knew that Natasha had a count of about six hundred and had shared the fact with you. Bucky had been Hydra’s tool, he was used in important missions only. While you…were a gun for hire basically. A knife for hire. You used your charms on men and women alike to disarm them enough. Your kills were always up close and personal. Sometimes you have to put yourself in compromised positions to do so. Bucky never had to. 
You knew that he had to be put under a lot, had to have his brainwashed again and again, and conditioned an inhumane amount of times. His brain rebelled, he had a life. Somewhere, deep in his subconscious, he had memories or faint encodings of a life outside.
But you were awake all of the time. You did things because there was no other option. You had to survive. You didn’t know otherwise.
You pondered in silence. And when it became too much for you, you fumbled into one of the multiple pockets on your jacket for your cigarettes. You stiffened when you remembered you had left the lighter on your bedside counter. “Damn it.”
“What’s wrong, doll.” His voice was curious, less rough. He was standing somewhere behind you. You could feel the weight of his stare.
You wanted to comment on the pet names— but you didn’t want him to stop, so you swallowed a snarky remark. “I forgot my lighter.”
He made his way toward you, movements swift as he sat next to you, feet dangling on the edge. You understood him now, didn’t want him to fall. 
He slid his hand onto the pockets of his cargo pants and came out with a lighter.
You smiled at him. His eyes never strayed from yours as he placed the lighter in your hand. 
His eyes were beautiful, darker than usual under the low light.
You tore away from his gaze. Placing a cigarette between your lips, you cupped the lighter and flicked it on.
You took a drag of the cigarette, enjoying the burn. Enjoying the strong scent, stronger than other cigarettes. It made your head light.
Banner had made them for you after you expressed sadness about not being able to enjoy any substances.
You heard a sniff. He had noticed it too.
You waited a second, leaving the smoke in your lungs, before exhaling. “It’s enhanced with something, Banner made it for me.”
He hummed. 
“You want one?” You looked at him from the corner of your eyes, not wanting to turn your face fully.
“Thanks for offering doll, but I don’t smoke.”
You hummed, taking another drag. “Not even before?” your question was tentative, you wanted to see if he would open up to you.
He hummed softly. “I did yes, once or twice. But Steve couldn’t handle the secondhand smoke, so I stopped. Little asthmatic punk…”
Silence stretched out as you enjoyed the lightheaded sensation. Your limbs loosened, and you felt free. 
“D’ya miss him?” You turned fully toward him.
His eyes never strayed from the skyline as he answered,“I do. It’s different, we’ve both changed a lot. You know how it is, losing the past.”
“I don’t know, not really…” your voice was soft and resigned. 
His eyes flashed to yours. You didn’t know what to do with the full weight of his stare. “What do you mean by that doll?” His brows were furrowed. 
You sighed, not wanting to get into it. “It’s late…” You took out your AVENGER-sanctioned phone to check the time, 2:15 A.M.
“I’m going to sleep.” You lied. And you couldn’t stop more words from tumbling out of your mouth. Clumsy and rushed. “Same time tomorrow?”
A ghost of a smile pulled slightly at the corner of his lips. “See you doll face. Sweet dreams.”
“Sweet dreams Jamie.”
── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──
Jamie. Jamie. Jamie. Jamie….
He had been too quick to judge, and now he couldn’t get you out of his thoughts. His sleep was fitful, but he was granted a reprieve from his nightmares. Dreaming instead of the multitudes in your eyes. 
It was a slow day in the compound. He had a routine during slow days, he would go to his favorite training room and lose himself. The training room itself didn’t lack anything, but he had marked his territory with his glares at anyone who entered. He had achieved an unspoken ownership of that particular room.
After having you torment his dreams, however, he had to see you in person. He tried to contain himself, he started his routine in the training room. 
It lasted 42 minutes. 
No amount of dagger throws could get him to calm down. 
He found you on the tower’s common floor.
You hunched over a table, Banner at your side. Coming down was worth it.
“Well, good morning there Sarge, nice of you to come out of your room and join the land of the living.”
And he immediately regretted it.
“Stark!” Two voices proclaimed in tandem. You and Steve jumped to defend him, Steve’s voice was sharp, and yours was a playful whine.
“What? I’m just saying, he’s acting like a teenager!” Stark’s voice was a defensive grumble. He tinkered with the toaster in the kitchen area. 
“Oh as opposed to you, who behaves so maturely?” The tone of your voice was playful but had a hidden bite to it. Bucky couldn’t help but appreciate it.
You turned to smile at him, Steve turned to bicker with Tony. Bucky rolled his lips and moved to grab a mug, he poured himself a cup before walking away. 
He barely heard Stark’s remark on his parting, mentally berating himself for caring about the hurt look that soured your face when he did not return your smile. He shouldn’t care, caring was dangerous. It made him vulnerable and put him in a position where he could be easily hurt again.
He had to be careful, He did not want to break down the walls he had put up protecting himself and others from himself.
── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──
You almost didn’t show up. Hurt but not surprised by his attitude.
You paced the room you had on Natasha’s floor. She was not home, leaving you to pace away your conflicting thoughts.
Your heart had skipped a beat when he showed up. He never showed up, he was a ghostly presence in the compound. Part of the team, but never there for ‘team building exercises’…
It was 2:14 when you rushed to the elevator, a pounding of indecision in your chest. You told yourself it was curiosity. You needed to know more about him, needed to figure him out - maybe then you would be able to understand why he made you want…-
The silent elevator ride left you time to think
He is hurt, just projecting/ This could end badly/ This could end with a friendship/ He was an asshole/ He just needs a friend/ At the cost of your sanity?/
Two inner voices argued with each other in the back of your mind. You let them.
The elevator stopped, the doors slid open and there he was. The voices went quiet as soon as your eyes fell on him.
He leaned against a thick construction support post, overlooking the city skyline, his back to you.
“Nice of you to join me doll.”
DOLL?! Asshole, he dared to call you doll- yet acted coldly toward you in public?! You grunted angrily, mimicking his usual blasé attitude and walking to stand beside him, not looking at him.
A storm of anger raged inside you as you stared at the beautiful Manhattan skyline.
“Is everything alright doll?” His voice was softer, and you weren’t as angry anymore.
Yes he hadn’t smiled at you, but what exactly had made you expect that from him? Yes, he called you doll, but he was from the forties. Plus he hadn’t smiled at you before. And-what?  You had one conversation and suddenly you expected him to smile at you? You were delusional! This man was set in his ways, and maybe he was bored, but it meant nothing. He was bored and lonely, and you were overthinking everything. You were new at this, at socialization. Genuine socializing. You socialized a lot for your HYDRA days, but this was new. You were used to having the upper hand, being the one in control.
You sighed out your exasperation, letting your tense shoulders loosen.
“Mhm…” your eyes never strayed from the city.
You stood in comfortable silence. You were an expert at working yourself into a stupor. But honestly, you were about… twenty, twenty-one (you lost time during HYDRA). Yet you felt emotionally stunted- of course you did. You never had the chance to actually develop skills people your age did.
“This feels like a dream. Like I am hallucinating being free, and I will wake up from passing out due to torture and be back in my cell…” Words tumbled out of your mouth. You were also bored and lonely. Faking your way with the others made you exhausted.
He made no response, but you could tell he understood. And that was enough.  You fumbled for your cigarettes. He slid a lighter from his pocket, handing it to you wordlessly.
You took it from his hand, inhaling to light your smoke. 
“You know? it’s dumb… but I sometimes feel like screaming at them… like something deep inside of me yearns to scream and kick and throw whatever is around- to get out all my pent-up energy, maybe then I can pass out from exhaustion and sleep. And yea- the novelty of being free, and being in the fucking Avengers is slowly wearing off, and I just-” you sighed, you were talking and maybe he wasn’t even interested in hearing you whine. “And whatever, I should be grateful… it’s dumb…” You stopped yourself. Letting in the chilly New York air into your lungs. 
“No, doll, it’s not dumb.” He turned to look at you, forcing you to face the full weight of his gaze. He was devastatingly beautiful. Your inhale was sharp. “Don’t feel bad about being angry, it’s valid feeling this way.”
You smiled then, “look at you, giving emotional advice. Who knew you were a big softy underneath that grouchy, grumbling exterior.”
He scoffed, but you could tell there was no real meaning behind it. Your smile grew.
His eyes lowered to your lips for a charged moment, before looking back to the city. “Those who can’t do, teach-”  His lips tugged slightly upwards, a glimpse of a smile.
You took a drag of your cigarette, staring unashamedly at his profile. “What do you do, when you are not brooding? Like what does one do for fun around here?”
“At two am in the morning doll, those who aren’t sleeping…” he trailed off, a soft pink brightening his cheeks
“Are what?” your grin was teasing.
“Are on a mission or something.” His voice came out slightly strangled. 
“Or something…” you murmured, a yawn escaping you.
── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──
 “So, you really liked big band music? Kind of… classy for a guy who threw himself off buildings.”
 “Hey, a man can appreciate good music and bad decisions.”
── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──
 “Stark’s fine, sometimes… but his ego’s bigger than his bank account.”
 “If I had his money, I’d buy a planet and avoid people altogether.” You sighed, 
 “Doll, you’d get bored in two days.”
 “True. I’d need at least one grump to frown at me” 
He couldn’t hide his soft grin.
── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──
 “Paris. You think it’s as romantic as everyone says?”
“Probably less if I was there...”
 “You’re right. You’d make it a lot more broody.”
“And you’d make it a lot more… sneaky. You’d blend into the shadows and pickpocket tourists.”
── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──
 “I could live off this forever.” Your spoke around a mouthful of pizza
Bucky grimaced “Takeout pizza? You call that food?”
 “Says the man who probably ate spam for dinner in the ‘40s.”
“Now doll, it was a delicacy back then.”
 “Spam’s not a delicacy in any era, Barnes.”
── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──
“You ever thought about getting a pet? Like a dog or something?”
Bucky raised an eyebrow “Me, with a dog? Not sure I’d be a good influence.”
“Nah, they’d see through you.”
“I’m more of a cat person.”
── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──
 “I like the quiet moments just before dawn. No one’s around to bother you.”
“Night’s better. Everyone’s already asleep. Feels like you’re the only one left.”
 “Until you realize there’s still someone like me lurking in the dark.”
 “Yeah, lucky me.”
── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──
 “So, any weird phobias? Mine’s spiders. Too many legs.”
Bucky shrugged “Needles. After Hydra? No thanks.”
You nodded. “Yeah, makes sense. But hey, at least you could crush a spider for me. And I can catch all your bulk when you pass out at the sight of a needle.”
“Ha, ha.” 
Someday, you’d get a real laugh out of him
── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──
 “If you weren’t a super soldier, what would you be doing?”
“Maybe a mechanic. Fixing cars, quiet life. You?”
 “Bartender. People tell you their secrets. It’s like espionage, but with cocktails.”
 “Sounds dangerous doll. What’s in the drink?”
You grinned “Depends on who’s asking.”
── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──
“I keep getting these flashes… Steve dragging me to Coney Island, insisting I’d love it. Turns out, I hate roller coasters.”
You rolled your lips, deciding on what to say “I don’t have any memories before hydra, but I dream about falling. Maybe I would love roller coasters.”
“I’ll take your word for it, doll. I prefer solid ground now.”
── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──
“You ever feel like the idea of ‘freedom’ is just another way to trap us? Like, what do we even do with it?”
“I dunno. Still figuring that out. But it beats following orders like a puppet.”
“Yeah. I just wish freedom came with an instruction manual.”
“If it did, doll, I’d probably ignore it. I don’t need another piece of paper dictating my life..”
── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──
You were late, and Bucky was ready to leave when he heard the elevator doors open. You held a full white plastic bag.
“Honey, I’m home, and I brought dinner!” you had a slight spring in your step, he turned toward you, a smile of pleasure and relief made its way into his expression without his consent. Your steps faltered slightly, your brows furrowing for a moment before a beaming smile took over, your eyes twinkling.  It was real, not a sarcastic grin, a smile! Your response only made his smile more pronounced -slightly, but still-.
“It’s good that you don’t smile, if you did people would pass out on the spot.”
He couldn’t stop the small laugh making its way out of his mouth. “Not you?”
“Not me, I’m made of stronger stuff.” You sat next to him, a bit farther from the ledge than usual. 
He followed suit, crouching in front of you. He took note of the way you eyed his legs, of your inhale, of the way you had to force yourself to look away.
“I wonder what would make you pass out.” His mouth ran away from his brain.
“Maybe take me to a fancy restaurant then you can try and find out.”
The thought made his heart race, he stopped himself from thinking about it. You were joking, it was friendly— you weren’t serious.
“I could, we could go on a few dates, and you would end it when you realize I’m too old and bitter for you doll. Maybe it’s best we stay here at 2:15 am where I can lend you a light.”
Your face soured to a pout. “Well I like my men a little bit older. But if you are telling me I’m not your type and you like old ladies, well then I can handle rejection, not the worst thing I’ve lived through.” Your smile was sarcastic, yet he could tell there was hurt behind your eyes.
“No doll, I don’t think anyone could reject you even if they tried.” 
── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──
Your heart raced at his words, caught off guard by their raw sincerity. You weren’t used to hearing compliments, not ones that felt real anyway. A flippant remark was on the tip of your tongue, ready to deflect the tension, but it got stuck.
“You ever think about it? You know… dating?”
He snorted softly, “Who would date me? I’ve got more shit to deal with than anyone would want to deal with.”
You grinned “Hey, at least you’re mysterious. I’m more… ‘potential assassin.’”
 “Ah, the classic ‘will she kill me on the first date’ dilemma. I can hide the metal arm, but you can’t hide the serial killer smile.”
You laughed loudly, shoving him playfully.
── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──
It was a few weeks after the initial meeting, and meeting had become a habit, a tradition of sorts. 
You gave him a shy smile when others were present, and he reciprocated with a soft look in his eyes. 
He knew he was being obvious with his staring, but he couldn’t help himself from looking at you.
He leaned on the counter, eyes flicking to and from you. He beheld as you smiled and laughed with the rest. He had a bit of jealousy that you weren’t bestowing a smile upon him, but he held none of the contempt from before.
He sensed an annoying presence beside him.
“Hey creep, why don’t you join us for drinks tonight? As luck would have it, even your star-spangled ass is joining us.”
Said star-spangled ass turned to glare at Tony, his expression turning into a smile as his eyes shifted toward Bucky.
“Yeah, come with us, you’ll have fun, we promise.” 
A myriad of yeahs chorused from the rest of the team, including you. Heat rushed to his cheeks as he looked at the ceiling. “Whatever.” He muttered.
“Well that wasn’t a no!” you grinned, acknowledging him.” Your smile was so bright he couldn’t take it. 
He sighed, and grumbled incoherently before turning to hide his blush and walking away.
── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──
You smiled to yourself as he retreaded. 
Natasha bumped your shoulders together. “He stares at you so much, I have no clue if he hates you or wants you. Maybe both!” 
“Nat, don’t be rude, it’s probably because I’m new.”
She smirked, “Sure.” You hadn’t been new for a while.
── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──
He was anxious. It took him forty minutes to place where the tight feeling in his chest was coming from. But it came down to you. It always came down to you as of late.
Steve had an arm around his shoulders, and he was babbling on about how much fun these rare night outs were, where everyone was present.
He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t you talking to some guy. Enthusiastic hand gestures and a dazzling smile on your face as some random guy looked at you with an entranced smile.
He felt bile rising in his throat. 
He wanted to turn around and walk away, but that would have been too obvious. So he walked in with his stomach dropping with anguish.
He was out of it, sipping a drink that Steve had handed him. His taste buds not even processing the taste of his drink.
“Yo! Joe Goldberg, knock it out with the serial killer stare.” 
He felt a smack on his shoulder. He reluctantly tore his eyes away from you.
“What are you talking about?” he grumbled. Smooth. Real smooth.
Even though she was shorter than him, Natasha towered over Bucky. “I don’t know what your problem is, but you need to check it. It’s getting really weird.”
He felt a hand fist in his heart, tight. He downed the drink and sighed. Think Bucky. Think. “It’s not like that.” He was quiet for a few moments, formulating a response.
“Well then explain why you keep staring at her like you want to strangle her.”
“I don’t want to— fuck.” He placed the empty glass on the table. “She’s also from Hydra.” He stated.
“Yeah, duh.” Natasha looked at him with contempt.
He needed to fix the fact that she thought he was some sort of obsessed weirdo…. He wasn’t!
“She’s so normal, happy. And she…” he trailed off. 
Natasha’s expression shifted to one of understanding. “Oh.”
“Yeah.” He looked to Steve, who tried to seem like he wasn’t listening to the conversation.
“Bucky, you’re-” Natasha placed a friendly hand on his shoulder.
“I’m going to get another drink.”
── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──
You could tell something was wrong when you stepped out of the elevator. He was quiet, not the usual kind, brooding. You acted like you always did, but you could tell his heart wasn’t in it. 
“Bucky, is everything alright?” your voice was soft.
His reply was an irritated huff. You waited for a few moments, letting him have his space.
The night was cold, you had worn thick cotton clothing. He wore a hoodie and pants, they looked comfortable, but the man in them did not.
You hummed, and moved closer toward him, he leaned on a pillar,
“Big mission tomorrow huh?” You shifted tactics. It wasn’t odd for him to have a quiet night, where you just sat in companionable silence. This was different though… he was angry about something. Some insecure part of you told you he was mad at you. But there wasn’t any foundation to that, was there? 
He grunted in response. He was making you anxious. You sighed loudly, deciding on either having a smoke or going to bed. The stilted silence made you anxious, a pressure hard on your chest. You tried to exhale it out, but it wouldn’t budge.
You let him wallow next to you for a few minutes before giving up and turning to face him. You placed a soft hand on his forearm, about to say goodnight. He flinched harshly and your heart twisted. He grimaced, eyes shifting to you before flitting away. 
“Bucky, if you need, I-” your voice had a nervous tinge to it, and you hated it. You were glad when he interrupted you.
“Go to sleep, doll.” His voice was sad, his face resigned. 
You furrowed your brows, studying his expression. You had the urge to kiss him on the cheek for good luck but knew that you would break if he flinched away.
“Goodnight Jamie…”
── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──
You walked away, turning your head twice to smile at him sadly. He held your gaze as the elevator doors closed, removing you from his field of vision. Taking you away from him. 
“Fuck.” His voice was soft and defeated. He looked at the city skyline. His eyes glossed over. He wanted to get the self-hatred out, to hit the wall, break his knuckles, and kick at the litter on the floor. But he let it sit, let it fester in his chest. A leech that grew bigger as it fed on the churning,  loathsome thoughts overwhelming his brain.
He crumpled with the ease of a paper, falling to the ground,
His limbs splayed as he lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. He couldn’t take it. Any of it. He always told himself he was strong. He was The Winter Soldier, for fuck’s sake! And here he was, crying over a girl. But that wasn’t it. Or it wasn’t just that. It was the fact that he was too soft for all of it. And he was still somewhat human at the end of the day. He still had emotions, and he was starved for comfort. He lacked connection. And he was okay without it, having gone so so long without it, he had grown used to the lack. But then you had come into his sanctuary and ruined everything, and he let you. He felt a kinship with you. You had gone through hell and back, had walked the same road as him, and you smiled so big, your eyes twinkled so bright. He couldn’t help but fall into your orbit. Admiring you from afar. 
Maybe it was better when he hated you, it was something he was used to, it was comfortable. He did not know what to do with all these feelings, hadn’t felt them before, not even in the 40’s. He was happy then, it was normal for him to smile. He didn’t know how to appreciate it. Yes, there was war, but there was hope, and there was also Captain America there to save him, but then Steve wasn’t there anymore. And any sliver of hope was quickly crushed under gleaming leather Hydra boots. He was going to die someday on a Hydra mission, he had made his peace with that. But Steve did save him, a little too late. He wasn’t Bucky anymore and did not feel like he had any right to the mantle of Captain America’s best friend. And some parts of him did want that still, but all of him yearned to be your Jamie.
And now bitter and traumatized, he held a flower in his calloused hands, and he didn’t know if he was worthy of it. He couldn’t breathe.
He was going to die here, and he couldn’t go in peace because he wanted to see you one more time. He couldn’t stand up, he couldn’t move, He keeped in pain like a puppy. 
Pathetic, get up. Voices from Hydra spewed venom, wracking through his psyche. He clenched his jaw and groaned from deep in his throat.
Broken…unworthy…killer…tainted…
── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──
The mission was successful. The team had divided in two, his group had finished earlier.
He felt better, exhausted. It had been a long mission, he was covered in grime and blood. 
It was rare for him to get to the point of exhaustion, but he had dived head first into hand-to-hand combat, not letting up, ignoring black widow’s knowing looks. 
Freshly showered and changed into sweats, Bucky let himself fall face-first into his too-soft bed. Days of restless sleep coupled with today’s exertion weighed his body down, and pulled his mind into sweet sweet oblivion.
He awoke with a start, looked at the clock, and sat up. 3:22 A.M. 
He had stood you up. He rushed to the elevator and up to the floor. His thoughts raced with self criticism and hatred. He breathed out a frustrated sigh, you weren’t there.
Of course you weren’t there, he had been over an hour late.
He grumbled to himself all the way down to the common floor. His footsteps skidded to a stop when he found all the lights on and a flurry of activity.
Hawkeye typing furiously into a computer, Black Widow pacing the floor on the floor, her hands fiddling with some tech stuff. Steve was curled over a tablet, his hands clenched around the edge of a countertop.
Bucky stopped. The other team hadn’t come back.
“What’s wrong… where is she?” His chest felt tight.
Steve motioned at him to come near while the other two ignored him.
“Look, Bucky, I know you have some fondness for her, but I need you to calm down. She’s — uh— she’s missing…”
His ears started ringing; he didn’t hear anything after that. He took deep breaths, running his hands through his hair. It was longer, he needed a haircut, maybe you could cut his hair. Yeah, that sounded nice. 
He stilled. Breathing in deep, “give me the details, I’ll have her back with me within the hour.”
He didn’t recognize his voice. Black Widow and Hawkeye had turned their heads to stare at him with wide eyes. 
“Bucky, calm down, she’s alive from what we can tell, we can’t deal with y- we have to focus on finding her right now.”
“I am focused. I will find her.” His voice, it was gruffer, the language wasn’t english. He was reverting back…
Iron Man decided it was the best moment to walk in.
Bucky, The Winter Soldier turned around with intent. He had some inkling of what he must have  looked like, a menace— because as Iron Man was opening his mouth to make some snarky remark, his jaw clenching shut, hands rising in surrender. 
“Где она, где моя кукла?” Where is she, where is my doll?. 
His voice had a deadly cadence, he spoke and meant death.
“She’s okay, Wanda has her.” Black Widow had placed the radio on a table. She walked toward The Soldier slowly.
Wanda, the deadly witch saved from Sokovia. He remembered her. She was strong. Not strong enough. 
He leveled his eyes on her. “скажи мне где, или ты умрешь.” tell me where, or die.
Her eyes grew hard. “Calm down soldier, there is no need to threaten anyone.” 
The tension was palpable then, rising… rising-
The Doors opened to you limping… being supported by the witch and the doctor. 
His shoulders slumped. He shifted toward you, but something blocked his path,  he looked down to see Steve’s arm pushing against his chest. The enemies' stance was on the offence, about to attack, to keep her from him. He was about to threaten his best friend  The Captain to move when-
“Jamie…”  
His gaze flashed toward you. You pushed away from them, limping— stumbling toward him.
He met no resistance this time as he rushed softly toward you.
Your knees buckled as he wrapped his arms around you. You collapsed against him. 
You sobbed softly- and he broke. His arms were strong and soft as he held you close.
He didn’t care about anything, he didn’t care how the scene looked, he didn’t care that they all knew for certain now. He loved you.
He just needed to know you were okay.
He held you as you shook, “I thought, I was back there Jamie, I- thought I wasn’t going to- to see you again. I thought, he would get lonely, and- and- I was going to miss you- they- they- I didn’t care about any of it. I just thought about you….” You sobbed, trying to get words out. “I got out- I killed them all, I couldn’t face it, couldn’t face not- I killed…” For you. 
“kukla…” Doll.“you’re here, you’re ok, let’s get you to the infirmary. You are hurt, and bleeding…”
His voice was so, so soft —dense with remnants of russian. His arms holding you together.
He ignored it all, ignored the dropped jaws and furrowed brows, you came first. He had shown you as his vulnerability, but he first had to be sure his Achilles heel would be okay.
Please remember to leave your kind thoughts in the comments, and if you enjoyed support with reblogs, ok thanks for reading be back with part two soon!!!!
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talaok · 6 months ago
Text
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 · 2 months 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."
712 notes · View notes
spidey-webz · 4 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. 
807 notes · View notes
buck-star · 19 days ago
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Favorite toy
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18+! MINORS DNI! Smut, fingering, squirting, praises, Bucky being hot.
Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist
IMAGINE being spread out for Bucky to do whatever he pleases. Your legs dangle over his while he leans relaxed with his back against the couch and holds your back tightly against his firm, t-shirt-covered chest.
While Bucky is fully clothed in sweatpants and a shirt, you’re only wearing one of his big hoodies that fits you like a dress.
So, while Bucky enjoys the movie playing on the television, his fingers play with your wet pussy. Tracing up and down your folds, pinching your clit every now and then. His eyes — of course — not really focused on the television but on you, even though he acts all innocent and sweet, like he would love to watch the movie.
When you squirm, he lets go of you, running his hands over your thighs. “Baby doll, we wanna watch that movie, don’t we? Ya squirming so much, can you even focus on it then?”
Idiot! When you settle back into him, he continues his little game until about halfway through the movie. His cock is painfully pressing against his pants and your back, but he’s not satisfied enough to stop playing with you just yet.
A yelp leaves your lips when he suddenly pushes two of his thick fingers into your entrance. He’s holding your legs spread with his, grinning into your neck. His lips trail along your soft skin, leaving soft kisses and bites all over it.
His mouth feels so sweet and tender while his fingers torment your pussy in the best way possible. The filthy, squelching noise mixed with your whimpers and moans fills the room.
“Good girl, such a good girl. Letting me play with you like a good you is supposed to,” he mumbles, his voice low. Bucky curls his fingers deep inside your cunt, groaning when you grab his thighs tightly to ground yourself. “That’s it… there it is. Your sweet spot, huh?”
Your pussy is clenching hard around his fingers, sucking his fingers back in whenever he pulls them out slightly. It earns you a lot of praise from that filthy mouth of your boyfriend.
“Look at my pussy, being so eager. Sucking my fingers in like your filthy mouth does with my cock all the time,” he says with a hoarse voice, his eyes dark and his lips on your neck no longer soft. He’s tugging with his teeth at your skin, leaving dark hickeys on your skin to remind you who you belong to. “Shouldn’t we reward you for being such a sweet and eager girl, shall we?”
Your nod is barely visible when you throw your head back against his shoulder. His fingers kept the steady rhythm. Suddenly you feel the coolness of his metal fingers on your clit, adding more and more pressure before he circles your sensitive bundle of nerves.
Your legs shaking, your back arching when the coil in your stomach tightens until it finally snaps. You're squirting all over his hand — just like he had planned when starting to thrust his digits against your sweet spot.
Bucky uses his metal hand to slap your pussy, causing the liquid to squirt in every direction. Your moans turn into cries when he keeps rubbing your overstimulated pussy.
“Good girl, such a good girl. Look at the mess you just made. Your cum is everywhere, baby doll. But I’m sure you can give me one more,” he praises, plunging another finger into you. You whine, shaking your head, but Bucky knows better. He knows you can give him one more. “Love seeing you squirt for me; can’t even decide if I want to look at your pussy or your face, both so mesmerizing, baby doll.”
So, between more prizes and encouragement to come for him to do exactly that. His name leaves your lips over and over again until he needs to feel you around his thick, leaking cock.
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majestyeverlasting · 3 months ago
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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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thyme-in-a-bubble · 10 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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navybrat817 · 11 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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littlelioncub43 · 5 days ago
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Hi, sex addict bucky anon here, once again, I raise you, Bucky with a SO who is also a sex addict, like his SO is the kinda person who just causally masturbate’s, maybe because shes horny, maybe shes just bored, but either way she is more than willing to indulge bucky, hell she probably enables it. Mutual masturbation being a very big thing in there relationship
*Steve Harvey voice*:
YEEEEEEEESSSSSS!!!!
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It's a regular thing. Somehow you two always end up with your hand between your legs playing with yourselves like animals in heat. Your favorite is when you're in bed or on the couch, both of you kneeling and facing each other; Bucky has his sweats pushed down low enough to have his cock out while he uses his flesh hand to stroke himself (he likes the feeling of skin on skin the most). His vibranium hand is gripping your hair while you both make out and moan into each other's mouths. You've got your panties pooling at your knees while your fingers glide in and out at a dizzying pace (which Bucky matches with his hand on his dick).
"Mmm! Yes! Yes! Faster, baby, faster!" He moans into your mouth, his hips starting to thrust so he can fuck his hand. You obey instinctively, your own hips grinding into your hand. "Mmmngggfffuuuuck let me touch you..." He begs in a gruff, breathy voice. The next thing you know, his metal fingers are pistoning in and out of your wet little pussy while he humps your hand at an equally rapid pace.
It feels so much better when you're the one touching him, so it doesn't take long for him to cum all over your hand and your thighs while you gush around his vibranium fingers. Thankfully, he's hard again within seconds so he just keeps fucking your hand until neither of you can take it anymore.
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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. 
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societyfolklore · 2 months 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.”  
606 notes · View notes
greengoblinswifey · 2 months ago
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Dream Come True
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Pairing— Nicholas Chavez x Sebastian Stan x Actress!reader
Summary— you’ve expressed desire to be between both sebastian and nicholas at the same time so they make your dream a reality. based on this request.
Warnings— possessiveness, threesome, unprotected sex, double creampie, praise kink, degradation, oral(m&f receiving), anal, double penetration, size kink.
A/n—i promise i’m working on all your requests as quickly as i can. i know this is shorter than my usual but enjoy either way🙄 <3 ALSO thank you guys so much for 4000+ followers, I appreciate it so much, i love you all <33
︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿
Sebastian moaned as your walls fluttered around him, finally adjusting to his size so he could move.
“You feel so good, just as I imagined,” he breathed, rutting into you steadily.
You hummed around Nicholas’ thick cock inside your mouth, the vibrations making him shiver.
“You love being praised, don’t you sweetheart?” Nicholas asked, reaching down to squeeze your tits.
You had been working as a supporting actress for the two men in their new film, it was your first big role and you were excited. Even more so with the whom you were working under. Now, you found yourself under both men.
A shrill moan left your lips as Sebastian repeatedly brushed that sweet spot inside you. Your toes curled and you squirmed under the weight of his big hands pressing you into the bed.
“Your dreams came true, didn’t they, baby?” Nicholas asked. It was almost mocking, he knew you wouldn’t be able to answer with his cock in your both and Sebastian’s cock buried inside your pussy.
Both men had overhead you talking with a cast mate about how it would be a “dream come true” to be trapped between both of the muscular men. You’d do anything to have them use you.
Now, here you were.
“She’s so fucking tight,” Sebastian moaned, reaching down to rub your swollen clit. His bottom lip caught between his teeth as he looked down to see the outline of his cock moving inside you. He was so big, just stretching you open so you could take all of him.
“And this mouth of hers? Fucking unreal,” Nicholas retorted, “she’s so perfect.”
You could feel the coil in your abdomen tighten at their praises, signaling you were close to your release.
Nicholas’ head tipped back as you began gliding your tongue across his shaft. You nipped at the sensitive skin then moved down to his balls, taking them into your mouth and humming in content. Sebastian continued slamming into you, the sight of you sucking Nicholas’ cock, making him dizzy.
“Cum on my cock, slut,” Sebastian demanded. He rubbed your clit faster and your back arched from the bed, a deep moan leaving you as you creamed on his cock. Your body shivered under his touch but his pace was relentless.
“That’s a good girl, but we’re not done with you yet, we’re going to use you until we’re satisfied,” he said, blue eyes somehow, dark.
Sebastian flipped you onto your stomach, pulling your ass up to him and his hands tightened their grip on your thighs. His mouth moving against your pussy in slow, deliberate licks. Every swipe of his tongue sent a jolt of pleasure through your body, making you press harder against his face.
“You taste amazing,” Sebastian muttered, his voice muffled but full of raw desire. “Keep sucking his cock, sweetheart. Don’t stop.”
“God, you’re incredible,” Nicholas groaned, his voice shaking. He tugged lightly on your hair, forcing you to meet his gaze for a moment. “I can’t believe I’m sharing this moment with you and him.”
The praise from both men wrapped around you like a blanket, their words fueling your movements against Sebastian and on Nicholas’ cock. Nicholas’ breath grew ragged, and his hips bucked slightly into your mouth.
Sebastian chuckled behind you, his low laugh vibrating through your body. “You better not be complaining,” he teased, his voice playful but thick with arousal.
Nicholas smirked, his fingers tracing your jawline. “Not a chance.”
The room was filled with the sounds of your moans, the rhythm of your head bobbing on Nicholas’ thick cock syncing with Sebastian’s steady hold and both their breathless gasps.
“You’re so beautiful like this,” Sebastian murmured, his voice reverent as he kissed along your holes. “You were made for us.”
Nicholas’ breathing grew heavier, his fingers tightening in your hair as his hips moved with your rhythm. “Just like that,” he moaned. “You’re so good with that mouth, baby. Taking me so well, look at you, desperate to please.”
Behind you, Sebastian chuckled darkly, his hands kneading your ass and spreading you open as his tongue continued its relentless movements. “She is desperate,” he said, his voice muffled against your pussy. “Can’t get enough of us, can you?”
You moaned around Nicholas, your response muffled but undeniable. The vibration sent a jolt through him, and his grip on you faltered for a moment.
“Fuck,” he hissed, his head tipping back as his chest heaved. “You’re going to make me lose it. You want that, don’t you? Want me to cum for you?”
Sebastian’ grip on your ass tightened, and he paused just long enough to growl, “Answer him.”
You pulled back slightly, your lips brushing his cock as you gasped, “Yes, I want it. Please.”
Nicholas’ smirk turned wicked, his hand caressing your cheek with surprising tenderness. “Good girl,” he murmured. “Such a pretty thing, begging for it.”
His hips bucked one last time as he came down your throat with a shuddering moan, his hand still tangled in your hair. He watched you intently, his eyes dark with satisfaction as you swallowed every bit, your lips glistening when you finally pulled away.
“God, you’re perfect,” Nicholas said, his voice soft now.
Sebastian shifted behind you, pulling you up slightly and turning your face toward him. His thumb brushed against your swollen lips, his blue eyes raking over your face. “So fucking pretty like this,” he murmured, his voice low. “A mess for us. Look at you—our perfect little toy.”
You whimpered as he guided your ass back against him, his hand sliding down to toy with your pussy.
Nicholas chuckled, leaning back as he ran a hand through his hair. “She’s too greedy to stop now,” he said. “Isn’t that right?”
You nodded weakly, your body trembling as Sebastian’ hand moved against your clit as his tongue slurped your holes. “Yes,” you whispered, your voice shaking.
“Say it,” Sebastian commanded, his tone soft but insistent. “Say how much you need us.”
“I need you,” you said breathlessly, your voice breaking as your body tensed under their combined attention. “I need both of you.”
Nicholas leaned forward, his lips brushing against your ear. “That’s right, sweetheart. You need us to ruin you, don’t you? To remind you who you belong to.”
Sebastian’s laugh was low and full of promise. “You’re ours now,” he murmured, his hands steadying you as you cried out, the waves of release washing over you. “Such a good girl, taking everything we give you.”
As you trembled between them, Nicholas pressed a kiss to your temple.
Sebastian’s hand slid up to tilt your chin, his lips brushing yours in a possessive kiss. “She knows she’s ours,” he said, his voice low. “And she loves every second of it.”
His strong hands gripped your waist firmly as he lifted you effortlessly, pressing your back against his broad chest. Nicholas was in front of you, his lips parted, his sharp jawline tense as he drank in the sight of you caught between them.
“Look at you,” Nicholas muttered, his voice thick with desire as he guided your hips to align with him. “So fucking needy, aren’t you? You wanted this, dreamed of being right here.”
Sebastian chuckled darkly behind you, his breath hot against your ear. “And now she’s got it,” he murmured, his tone filled with both mockery and praise. “Two men making her feel exactly how she’s always wanted.”
You gasped as Nicholas thrusted into your pussy, stretching you almost painfully, only to feel Sebastian follow from behind, filling your ass completely. The sensation was overwhelming, their bodies pressing into you from both sides, trapping you in a feeling that left you trembling.
“God, you’re so tight,” Sebastian moaned, his voice rough as his fingers dug into your hips. “Taking us both in your holes like the good little slut you are.”
Nicholas tilted your chin up with his hand, forcing your teary eyed gaze to meet his. “You’re doing so well,” he said, his voice softening slightly, though the smirk never left his lips. “Letting us ruin you like this. Bet you’ll never forget it.”
The rhythm they set was relentless, their powerful thrusts perfectly synced as they moved against you. Every stroke pushed you further towards a powerful orgasm, their muscles rippling around you as they worked together to overwhelm every sense you had.
“You feel so fucking amazing,” Sebastian growled, his teeth grazing the back of your neck. “We’re going to break you, sweetheart, make sure you never look at anyone else the way you look at us.”
Nicholas moaned as his pace quickened, his hands gripping your thighs to steady you. “She’s already ours,” he said, his voice strained but confident. “Look at her, she’s a whore for us. Aren’t you?”
You moaned in response, unable to form words as pleasure wracked your body. Nicholas laughed breathlessly, leaning closer until his lips brushed yours. “That’s what I thought,” he murmured. “Our perfect little slut, taking everything we give her.”
Sebastian’s hand slid around your waist to press against your stomach and pressing against Nicholas’s cock moving in your belly. He held you tightly as his movements became rougher. “You like this, don’t you?” he muttered, his voice dark. “Being filled completely, both of us making sure you know exactly who you belong to.”
Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as the pressure built, your body arching between theirs. “You’re ours,” Nicholas said again, his voice fierce as his hands tangled in your hair. “Say it.”
“I’m yours,” you gasped, your voice breaking as the pleasure became too much. “Both of yours.”
“That’s my girl,” Sebastian rasped, his movements faltering as he abruptly came in your ass. “So good for us.”
Nicholas moaned as he followed, his hips snapping against your pussy one last time before he pulled you into a possessive kiss. “We’ve ruined you for anyone else,” he murmured against your lips.
They held you there for a moment, their muscular bodies pressing into you as your breaths mingled. “Better than any other man ?” Nicholas teased, his lips curving into a sly smile.
Sebastian chuckled low in your ear, his hands still gripping your waist. “She knows we are.”
124 notes · View notes
buck-star · 9 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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