#thank you mr barnes!!!!!!!!!

[miilkybnn]

james buchanan barnes

[nerosdayinanime]

5 song SabiGiyuu playlist GO.

Gladly~

Welcome Home (radical face)

Soul Meets Body (death cab for a cutie)

Eyes (rogue wave)

Stand My Ground (bob bradley) <yt link

Mountains (message to bears)

[perdidosbucky-yyo]

Alina wearing black to the winter fete is basically her accepting Alexander's marriage proposal😩😌😭🥺❤️

[jobean12-blog]

The Fine Print

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (CEO!Bucky AU)

Word Count: 4,126

Summary: You've been working under Bucky for almost a year and he's always been a grumpy ass and even though when the lines get blurred you can't seem to stay away.

Author's Note: These new pics and all the new gym shots and vids and yum! Just being fed so well! I like the idea of a grumpy CEO who just wants you and he's mad about it. No excuse for being a dick but he's not really all bad. And anyway, I'd never tell him no...haha! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Thank you Daisy for the lovely divider @firefly-graphics😘

Warnings: Grumpy ass Bucky (he's a total ass sometimes but has moments of softness), sassy reader, lots of tension, flirting, curses, fingering, light dirty talk

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

You’re late. Only twenty minutes but it’s long enough that your grumpy ass of a boss will have your head for it.

Grumpy…and an ass but entirely too gorgeous.

You pick up the pace, precariously balancing your files and bags and hoping you don’t faceplant on the newly shined floors.

Getting a flat tire on the highway this morning wasn’t on your long to-do list for today, but it still happened and now you’ll have to deal with a very cranky Mr. Barnes.

You round the corner and enter your office, ready to give your usual sunshine filled greeting.

“Good morning, Mr. Barnes!”

He’s standing at your desk, arms crossed over his broad chest and his eyes hard.

“Is it a good morning?” he asks, not bothering to move out of the way as you try to slip around him. “What time is it?”

You stop and meet his glare.

“I had some car trouble this morning. I got a flat on my way in.”

Your voice comes out steady and strong and relief floods through you. This was the first time you were late, and you were not going to be reprimanded.

“Trouble is quite the fitting word for what I’ve been dealing with in your absence.”

You glance up at him and his antagonizing stare, and blink away your surprise at his words.

“I would have thought you would at least ask me if I was ok Mr. Barnes,” you say sweetly and with a smile. “After all, how could I possibly manage to fix a flat tire all on my own.”  

His jaw clenches tightly.

“Obviously you managed,” he counters. “And you look just fine.”

Beautiful blue eyes wander languidly down your body before making their slow perusal back up to study your face.

You try to school your features and when he raises an expectant brow you bite back with, “Thankfully I am fine, and I got help but I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with the burden of picking up a telephone and sending an e-mail all on your own this morning. It won’t happen again.”

He takes a step closer to you and you stop yourself from swaying forward to get a hint of his scent.

Traitorous body. If only the fucker wasn’t so fucking hot.

“You’re right. It won’t,” he replies with a smug smile. “And just so you don’t forget, I’d like to see…”

He spends the next minute rattling off several project pieces he’d like to see completed and on his desk by the end of the day.

“And then you can make up the half an hour you missed by getting together a mock presentation for our meeting tomorrow.”

When your nostrils flare, he smiles triumphantly and dips his head, so his warm breath caresses the shell of your ear.

“I’ll see you in the conference room at six.”

He turns away and slams his office door behind him and you let out an exasperated puff of air.

“It was only twenty minutes asshole.”

You mutter the words under your breath as you plop into your office chair and continue to curse his name in grumbles.

There’s a light knock on the door before it opens and you know you’re about to hear the voice of your friend and coworker, Jess.

“I know you’re working through lunch,” she says. “So at least let me get you something.”

You don’t look up but smile nonetheless, your fingers flying over the keyboard with ease.

“Honestly, I don’t even think I have time to eat,” you say before hitting the period button hard and meeting her eyes.

Jess gives you a sympathetic look. “I’ll grab you something nutritious.”

She waves before gently shutting the door. You lean over to check your desk drawer for snacks, the mention of lunch reminding you that you are in fact, hungry. At the same time that you see you have nothing to eat you notice a tear in your stockings.

“Son of a bitch,” you grumble. “I just bought these.”

Less than a minute later your door opens again and without looking up from your screen you whine, “do you know what, after the morning I’ve had I think I’ll take something sweet…maybe a cookie. Or twelve. Or chocolate of any kind.”

When you receive no acknowledgement, in return you glance up and see that Jess is not standing at your door.

You quickly tug the hem of your skirt down, noting how Bucky’s eyes track the movement and linger on your legs.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Barnes, I didn’t realize…”

“Since your morning has been so awful,” he starts, his sly smile growing, “why don’t you run down to the café and pick us both up some lunch.”

Your lips purse and once again his eyes seem glued to every action you take.

“Mr. Barnes, Jess has just come in and said she would grab me something to eat so I can continue working through lunch.”

When he doesn’t say anything, you continue.

“I have A LOT to get done.”

“I’m sure you’ll make it work,” he says before rattling off his lunch order.

He turns on his heel and takes two long strides back to his office, pulling the door closed hard behind him.

“What the f…?”

You don’t even finish the sentence when he opens the door again and pokes his head out.

“Make sure you get yourself something to eat. We’re going to be here late.”

The door slams shut again, and you abruptly stand, your rolling chair flying back into the wall as you storm off.

“Why does he care if I eat or not?” you ask yourself as you angrily stuff things into your bag and throw it over your shoulder.

The rest of the day goes by far too quickly and you find yourself cursing out the copy machine as you wait for the rest of your papers to go through. Checking your phone you see you’re already almost ten minutes late to your afterhours ‘meeting.’

You rush down the dim hall of the now empty building, your presentation materials clutched tightly to your chest and glance again at your phone.

Fifteen minutes. Shit.

As you near the conference room, you try to calm your breathing and slow to a walk. A soft light shines from under the door, and you know he’s in there waiting for you.

Taking a deep breath you knock.

“Come in.”

You walk into the large room, never failing to take in the view of the city that the floor to ceiling windows along one wall highlight.

At the head of the large dark wood conference table, sits Bucky. His suit jacket is hanging haphazardly over the back of his chair, his tie is loose around his neck, and the crisp white sleeves of his button down are rolled up to his elbows.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Barnes. The copy machine…”

Realizing you’ve been apologizing all day, and it has made no difference, you stop yourself and lift your chin, walking over to where he sits and placing down your papers, sorting through them as quickly as possible so you can begin.

“Have you eaten dinner?” he asks.

His question takes you completely by surprise and you meet his piercing blue eyes with a confused expression.

“I uh…I had lunch.”

“That doesn’t answer my question sweetheart.”

At his sugared endearment, your eyes widen, and your breath catches in your throat, but you regain your composure.

“No. I haven’t.”

He just nods and gestures to the papers, clearly waiting for you to get started.

You lean over the table, searching for the paper you need and in your disheveled state don’t realize your entire lower body is practically draped over him.

“I just need to find…”

The words catch in your throat when you feel his fingers softly touch your thigh, slowly inching higher to reveal the tear in your stocking. His fingertips trace the sheared fabric and press against your skin, igniting it with heat.

Every muscle in your body tenses, your heart pounds in your chest and your brain screams at you to push him away but you don’t dare move.

“Look at me,” he demands, pressing his fingertips harder into your skin.

You straighten and turn to face him, his hand sliding up and over the curve of your hip to settle on your waist.

“Mr. Barnes?” you ask, keeping your eyes trained on his.

“James. Call me James.”

The intensity of his stare makes your breath catch and when he doesn’t answer and instead continues letting his hand trace your curves you battle with your emotions.

“The next time you have car trouble,” and his hand slips under your skirt again, “you call me.”

“What? Why would I?”

His fingertips graze the lace top of your stocking before he lifts your skirt higher and drops his eyes between your legs.

“Because I said so,” he murmurs, teasing along your inner thigh.

Your hand falls to the table to steady yourself and you willingly spread your legs open when he gives them a slight push.

“That’s hardly a good reason,” you breathe out.

“Fuck,” he growls, and his eyes fall closed.

You glance down at his lap and see him straining against the expensive fabric of his pants.

He smooths two fingers along the line of your panties, lightly pressing against your swollen and sensitive clit. His eyes open and he looks furious, fisting the thin material in his hand and in one quick movement, tearing it off.

He pulls you down roughly onto his lap, your skirt riding up over your hips to accommodate the wide spread of your legs as you straddle him.

An involuntary moan slips past your parted lips when he grabs your ass and drags you down over his hard cock.

When he opens his mouth to speak you grab his tie between your fingers and use it to pull his mouth to yours. Every sweep of his lips is heaven, and you release his tie to rake your fingers through his hair.

He makes a low, angry noise deep in his throat and you trail your lips along his jaw, kissing your way down the strong column of his neck.

His hand slides from your ass and slips between your legs, his fingers brushing through the wetness just before there’s a knock on the door.

You both go completely still and wait. When a second knock sounds, he quietly curses and gently lifts you off his lap.

You quickly pull your skirt down and smooth your hands over your hips. He watches your every move as he runs a hand through his mussed hair and sits up in the chair, hiding his legs and erection under the table.

“What?” he growls, loud enough for whomever is on the other side to hear.

“Mr. Barnes, we’re scheduled to do maintenance in here tonight.”

He curses again and continues to stare at you.

“I’m just finishing a meeting. Give me five minutes.”

“Of course, Mr. Barnes,” the maintenance manager, says, “take your time.”

His chest rises and falls rapidly as he splays his hands out over the tabletop. Hastily he stands and tries to straighten his tie, his eyes landing on your ripped panties that lie on the floor.

He grabs them and rubs the silky fabric between his fingers.

“Make sure you eat something,” he says and then shrugs on his suit jacket, tucking your panties into the breast pocket.

You’re clutching the table and staring as he grabs his briefcase and starts toward the door.

“It’s late. I’m going to have security walk you to your car,” he states, finally meeting your eyes.

His groan is pained as his gaze travels down your body and then he disappears out the door.

You fall back into a chair and try to calm your breathing. You’d have to be out of here in a minute and you didn’t want to look suspicious. Seeing movement outside the door you begin gathering your things and stand on still shaky legs.

With a deep inhale you straighten your shoulders and walk out the door with a serene smile, greeting the head of security and thanking him for escorting you out.

What the fuck just happened?

The next morning you’re making your way into the office when he walks in. You do nothing more than greet him with a curt nod, giving him a wide berth of space as you make your way to your desk.

You can feel his eyes on you, the lick of heat traveling down your spine. You’re wearing your favorite dress and while it’s appropriate for the workspace it accentuates all the right spots, and you smile to yourself as you bend down to retrieve something from your desk drawer.

Regardless of what transpired last night you are not going to let it affect your work. You felt powerful and confident in this dress and Mr. Barnes can fuck off.

You peek over your shoulder to find him standing halfway in the doorway of his office and staring. You raise your brows and blink.

He clears his throat and mumbles a short “good morning,” then steps into his office and slams the door.

You roll your eyes and promise yourself he’ll be the last thing on your mind as you set out to get as much work done today as possible.

As lunch approaches you grab your bag and reach for your wallet. Your fingers close around a crumpled piece of paper, and you start to smile when you’re reminded of what it is.

You knock on his office door and saunter inside when he says, “come in.” The receipt hits his desk with a smack and without an explanation you turn and walk back out.

You almost make it to the first step in the stairwell when you hear footsteps approach behind you.

“Where the hell do you think you’re running off to?” he calls.

You continue walking and make it down one flight of steps before saying, “to get lunch.”

He meets you on the landing and clutches your elbow, spinning you around and pushing you against the wall.

Your eyes narrow contemptuously.

He whips the receipt out and in front of your face. “Want to explain this sweetheart?”

You let out a wry chuckle. “You know for such a smart guy you really are an ass sometimes. It’s a receipt.”

“I can see that,” he says through clenched teeth. “What I want to know is why you’re making purchases for…lingerie…on my company credit card.”

“Some jerk ripped up my favorite pair of panties last night.”

You shrug your shoulders and try to skirt past him.

His hand meets the wall next to your head, his fingers curling and crumpling the receipt and you can feel how tightly the muscles in his body are flexed when he presses closer.

He looks tormented for the split second before his lips crash down on yours and your treacherous body melts into the kiss.

His cock throbs against your stomach as he tries to hike your dress up over your thighs. Reluctantly he steps back, making enough space so he can slowly slide your dress higher, above your panties and look his fill.

“I like this pair even more than last nights,” he simpers.

His fingers hook into the lace at your hip, and you grab his shirt. “Don’t you dare Barnes.”   

“You can buy as many new pairs as you want.”

He once again easily tears them from your hips.

Your lips part in shock but he swallows your sassy remark with his mouth. The roughness of his kiss is a sharp contrast to the way his fingers softly tease between your legs.

You need more but you’ll be damned if you’re going to beg him for it. As if he can read your inner thoughts, his eyes light up in triumph when he pulls away to meet your gaze.

“As much as I want to hear you beg me for it sweetheart, I already know how badly you want it. You’re soaked for me.”

“You’re such an ass…”

He slides a finger inside you and your combined groans echo in the empty stairwell, the insult dying on your lips.

His stare is intense as he dips his head to your ear, warm lips brushing ever so gently when he whispers, “say please and I’ll give you what you want.”

Instead, you nip at his jaw, stifling the moan of need that threatens to rise in your throat. He continues pumping one finger in and out, sweat beginning to bead on his brow and his teeth gritted.

You hiss out a curse that’s followed by a breathy “please.”

You’re expecting him to be smug but instead he slows his movements and languidly pushes a second finger inside you, clearly relishing the way your eyelids flutter closed and you clench around him.

“That’s it sweetheart. Show me how much you love it when I fuck you with my fingers.”

His words practically send you over the edge but it’s the press of his thumb to your clit that makes your legs start to shake and his name fall from your lips like a prayer.

When his head falls to your neck and he places soft kisses along your skin, traveling up to your ear to whisper, “come for me gorgeous,” you let go and dig your fingernails into his strong shoulders, finishing with a muffled cry.

He draws out your pleasure with the slow push and pull of his fingers before sliding them out and holding them between you, his skin glistening under the harsh fluorescent lights.

His fingers press to his lips, parting them as he licks them clean, clearly savoring every drop of your taste.

“I knew you’d be sweet,” he croons.

“James,” you whimper when your hands fall to his pants.

He grabs your wrist to stop you and pushes your hand away. With soft movements he fixes your dress, smoothing his hands along your curves.

“But…” you start, and he silences you with a kiss.

You’re breathless and your head is fuzzy by the time he pulls away and with a wink he steps back and says, “lunch is over. We have a meeting to attend.”

He turns on his heel and jogs back up the steps with ease. Your narrowed eyes follow him before you let out a frustrated huff and walk on wobbly legs in the same direction.

You had forgotten all about the meeting…the one you were supposed to go over the plans for the night before.

When you walk into the large conference room everyone is already seated and Bucky is of course at the head of the table. His eyes are trained on you as you walk to the front and place your things down near him.

The presentation you’re giving shouldn’t take more than ten minutes, but there’s a lot riding on it and after what just happened, you’re obviously feeling flustered.

You open your document and greet and address the room, doing everything in your power to keep your focus on where it belongs and not on him.

But when you pause your eyes lock with his and your ability to speak is momentarily stolen. His gaze is intense, the heat simmering there almost palpable.

With a clear of your throat you continue, fumbling slightly but thankfully recovering quick enough that no one seems to notice. No one but him.

His perfect lips raise in a lopsided grin, and he runs his tongue along the seam of his lips. It’s clear where his thoughts are, and you must tear your eyes away to unscramble your head. He’s obviously trying to fluster you and quickly your nerves are replaced with anger, and you use it to fuel the rest of your presentation, finishing it with ease.

You sit with a smile and lift your chin, challenging him with your eyes. He stares right back.

“Thank you,” he says, addressing you by your first name as he stands and commands the room. “That was an excellent presentation. Clearly, you were well prepared.”

You can’t tell if his words are mocking or meaningful and it sets you on edge. He moves around the room and answers any lingering questions before ending the meeting with a dismissive hand.

As people stand and gather their things, Bucky comes up behind you, pressing his chest close to your back as he leans in to pretend to grab something from the table.

“I wasn’t sure you were going to make it thought that” he chuckles.

To everyone else it appears he’s making a funny remark, but you can feel your skin heat at his proximity and taunting words.

“Ugh,” you say through gritted teeth. “You would have loved that wouldn’t you?”

You can feel your eyes fill with unshed tears, the emotions of the day finally catching up to you and when his gaze finds yours his expression morphs from haughty to soft in an instant.

It only sends you reeling again, the confusion flooding through you and before he can say more you gather your things and rush out the door. Unexpectedly, he’s hot on your heels all the way to the elevator.

There are several other people on it so when you stop at the next floor and more employees file in, you’re squeezed toward the back, pushed farther into him, your ass against his crotch.

He’s hard and you feel the rest of him stiffen with the sharp intake of his breath. You take a step away from him, as much as you can in the confined space, but he reaches forward and grips your hip to pull you back.

“Don’t move,” he whispers into your neck.

“I’m two seconds away from shoving my heel up your ass,” you seethe.

He leans even closer, keeping a firm grasp on your hip.

“You were deliberately trying to make me fuck that up!”

You turn your head to peer at him and his mouth falls open, brows furrowed.

“What?” he says.

“You heard me.”

When you reach the floor just before the top, everyone else exits the elevator and the doors close, leaving you both pressed together in the corner.

It starts to move again, and you jerk backward, falling against him as he leans into the wall.

His sudden growl startles you and then he slams his hand into the stop button on the control panel.

His body cages you against the wall and his breathing is harsh.

“I would never want you to fuck anything up,” he exhales. “It’s impossible for me to think about anything but you…how good you taste, and I haven’t even gotten my mouth on you.”

You hide your surprise at his confession.

“Yet.” He adds in a promised whisper.

“This is my career at stake Mr. Barnes. You’re the one with all the power here. What do you have to lose?”

“Me? All the power?” He laughs dryly. “You’re the one who does this to me…the only one.”

You feel him throb against your stomach and you can see the truth in his eyes.

“Then don’t be such a dick all the time.”

You mean the words to come out harsh but instead they’re a quiet whisper and your expression softens.

It’s all he needs before his lips crash to yours and he slides his hands down to your ass, squeezing his way to the hem of your dress.

“I had to sit there and watch you present, the whole fucking time knowing you had nothing on under here.”

His touch is delicate as he spreads your legs and slides a finger through your folds, already wet and aching.

“I was sitting there hard as a rock just thinking about bending you over that table, tasting you, fucking you.”

Your fingers close around his biceps, the soft fabric of his suit jacket bulging under the strained muscles.

“Is that what you want?” he asks as his fingers continue to tease you.

“Yes,” you answer as you grab hold of his tie and bring his lips closer.

He kisses you, never touching you where you need it most and when he pulls away, he presses the elevator button, causing it to start moving again.

He removes his fingers and reaches up to straighten his tie and when the doors open, he backs out, his voice low and deep when he says, “I need to see you in my office. Immediately.”

He turns and glides from the elevator, his long strides carrying him quickly toward his office and you can’t do anything but follow.

@blackwidownat2814 @hiddles-rose @kmc1989 @goldylions @lizette50

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

Oral Arguments

Pairing: Husband!Bucky x Female!Doctor!Reader

Word Count: 2,072

Warnings: oral sex

A/N: I’m not usually a fan of the Y/N and Y/L/N thing, but needs must. Sorry, I just had to vent about this personal issue. Thank you Daisy @firefly-graphics for this banner!

It was late when you finally crawled into bed. Bucky was already there, for once. 

“Hey, doll!”

“That’s Doctor Y/L/N to you, buddy,” you poked him angrily in the chest.  “Not Mrs. Bucky Barnes!”

Bucky’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline, shocked by your sudden outburst. He had no chance to make a rebuttal as you continued with your rant.

“Just because I’m a woman, it doesn’t make me any less of a doctor… or professional, for that matter,” you grumbled.

“Of course it doesn’t.”

You continued without listening to his response. “I hate that parents say ‘tell the lady what’s wrong’ but with male doctors it’s ‘tell the doctor’.”

Even though he longed to interrupt with words of comfort, Bucky suspected that you wouldn’t take very kindly to it at this particular moment in time. 

“I’m sick of being known as somebody’s appendage. I worked my ass off to get my degree and to hold the position I do now and it’s infuriating that it means nothing.”

You barely noticed the look of shock and worry on Bucky’s face as you vented your frustrations.

“This is your fault, that’s what it is!” You turned to him and poked him in the chest with your index finger.

“M-my fault?” Bucky asked, eyes widening with surprise.

“Yeah! You had to go and make me fall in love with you and marry you!” you pouted. 

“Oh, well then I guess I’m guilty as charged. I don’t regret it,” Bucky smiled, relief washing over him.

“Well now it’s all Mrs. Barnes this, Mrs. Barnes that. I mean these are the same people who once called me Dr. Y/L/N. Just because I’m married I suddenly lose my title. It’s not fair. I hate that I have to work twice as hard to prove myself of being capable.”

“I know, doll.”

“It’s exhausting.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine.”

Suddenly you felt incredibly dejected and your shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry… for yelling. I shouldn’t have.”

“You have every right to get the respect you deserve.” Bucky out his large hands on your arms, gently rubbing them.

“You know I love being your wife. I wouldn’t have it any other way. But not I’m just-”

“My wife?”

You sighed, feeling deflated and completely out of steam.

“I know just the thing!” Bucky’s lips twitched with mischief. “Turn around.”

You did as he asked and Bucky shuffled up behind you, his long thick fingers massaging the knots from your shoulder blades, making you moan in pleasure, and sending pulses of warmth through your neurons. You could feel the knots of tension ebb away with the kneading of his strong digits. Slowly, his touch softened to feather light brushes across your bare shoulders.

The tip of Bucky’s nose tickled your neck, taking in your scent: jasmine and watery cyclamen shampoo. His warm breath sent shivers down your arms as he traced the contour of your neck; lips followed in suit, sweeping the skin on the nape. Bucky moved closer, his chest flush against your back as he nibbled at the helix of your ear, teeth gently scraping your skin.

“Buck, that tickles,” you giggled and turned to face him.

Tilting your face up to meet his eyes, you met his gentle soft look of adoration. You could feel his love and devotion and an almost schoolgirl blush rose to your cheeks.

“Buck, I-” you opened your mouth to thank him, but he silenced you gently with a tap of his finger to your upper lip.

“Shhh, you deserve nothing but the best.”

He traced the outline of your lips, grazing the grooves first with his forefinger, but as you closed your eyes to enjoy the sweet sensation, the texture of his contact changed. Tantalizingly, his lips danced the tango with yours, you breathed in the scent of scotch, and knew that he had indulged in a nightcap before you had rather obtrusively invaded his peaceful evening. Tilting your head back and lifting your jaw, you reached forward longingly, craving the taste of his tongue, his own unique twist of coffee and whiskey. Except that his mouth was just out of reach, guarded by this handsome nose. Every step you took to claim his lips was countered gracefully with the nuzzle of his nose against yours. Unable to satisfy your craving, you opened your eyes to glare into those sapphire orbs, which you knew would stoke the fire that was already raging inside of you. His eyes were wide open, pupils dilated, waiting to meet your gaze, filled with mirth and lust.

“You know it drives me nuts when you tease me like this.”

His lips turned upwards into a smirk at your words, but he remained frustratingly silent, so unlike your smooth-talking husband who always had an opinion, always something to say.

Instead, his thumb stroked the notch of your clavicle tenderly, his fingers working their way across your shoulder, slipping off the silky strap of your chemise. For every motion his fingers made, his eyes never left yours, his attention never waning, even when they brushed your nipple, making you gasp and lean back into his chest. His hand lingered on your bosom, as the other explored the remainder of your body, roaming over your arm, across your stomach, stroking your thighs. Up and down, his hand glided over your frame, every caress did nothing but ignite an insatiable yearning, a longing to be filled.

Each seductive slide, the occasional tantalizing twirl, he edged closer to satisfying your ever increasing desire but never quite giving you the relief you craved. Releasing you from his embrace, Bucky lowered you down onto the pillows behind you, stopping for a moment, only to gently brush the stray strand of hair from your face and give you an adoring smile before returning to his ministrations. His mouth left a blazing trail of kisses from your jaw, down your chest and belly, stopping short of giving you any real pleasure, only adding fuel to the tempestuous flame that raged at your core.

The base of his palm nestled itself on your pubic symphysis as comfortably as though it was made to be there. The pressure applied by his digits made you whimper longingly, each push at the fabric of your underwear made you buck your hips wantonly with the smallest of hopes that he would give you the release you desired. Keeping his hand hovering over the wetness permeating your panties, he placed a hand between your thighs, pulling them apart, splaying your legs, making a great show of his microscopic examination of your personal anatomy.

Finally you could no longer take the agonizing wait for your own gratification, the words burst from your mouth without thought or control, “Bucky please, could you just fuck me already?”

“Gladly,” he growled, although you could barely hear him over the blood coursing through your vessels.

Bucky was rarely one to rush into things headlong, rarely. Pushing aside the small strip of material covering your dripping slit, he slid his fingers between your folds, sending a burst of ecstacy spiraling through to your fingertips. Ever so slowly he parted your lips, lowering himself between them. 

You held your breath in anticipation of what you knew was coming, his eyes told you exactly what he intended. Despite the promise of pleasure, you weren’t prepared for the electrifying sensation that burst through you as Bucky’s tongue touched your clit. This was only the first of a series of impulses, delightful, delicious, delectable, dazzling, delirious! They fired through your nervous system, sending waves of euphoria to every fiber of your being. Twirling, flicking, sucking, he devoured you with fervor. Within minutes you felt dangerously close to coming undone, your body undulated with the rhythm of his tongue. It was a struggle to keep your eyes on him, your hands clutched at the sheets; he was certainly enjoying watching you unravel at the seams. 

Just as you thought you couldn’t stand it anymore, Bucky made you cry out as he slipped two fingers inside you, flexing them slightly into the shape of a hook as he dragged them in and out of your leaking center. The thrusts weren’t hard, neither were they fast, just paced, the same as the stroke of his tongue. Together they massaged the small bundle of nerves to reach your zenith, making you convulse in bliss as your orgasm finally hit, like a tidal wave, strong with its first impact but spreading far and wide, filling every nook and every cranny in its fluidity.  He continued to milk you through your climax, until the tide ebbed away, leaving you lying on the beach of paradise.

Needless to say, he looked rather proud of himself, as he rose from his position. Bucky pulled back the scrunched up material of your lacy garment, smoothing away the creases before leaving a chaste kiss on your silk covered lips.

“One of those would be nice up here, too,” you smiled, pointing at your mouth. 

Still sat between your open legs, Bucky leaned over to indulge you in a real kiss. And even as his tongue worked its magic in a whole new way, you became aware of his throbbing appendage as it pressed against you, begging for attention.

“Buck, do you want me to take care of that for you?” you breathed out between kisses.

He finally spoke, “no, it’s fine. Today is about you.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind… in fact, I want to.”

“It’s ok, I got this,” he rose to go to the bathroom.

“Buck!” you called after him, propping yourself up on your elbows. “Wait!”

He turned to look at you expectantly.

“Stay?” you asked hopefully, then hesitantly, “if you don’t mind, I- I’d like to watch.”

His eyes darkened. “Really?”

You patted at the space between your legs. “Only if you want to.”

Bucky crawled back to the space he had not long evacuated and it occurred to you that he suddenly looked a little unsure of himself. This wasn’t something either of you had done previously.

“You probably need to remove your pants to deal with that,” you nodded at the bulge in his pants that seemed to be ever increasing.”

“Doctor’s orders?”

“I recommend removal for thorough examination,” you sat up, curled your legs beneath you and leaned closer for a view.

The tables had turned and now your husband was the one sitting exposed between your legs. He stood to attention before your eyes, hard and erect, with a glisten at the head which told you he was ready for action. The urge to reach out and stroke him was strong, but you held your hands away, as he had asked. Your breath came hard and fast as you watched Bucky work his hand up and down his length. 

Mesmerized, you found it impossible to tear your eyes away from the way Bucky’s fingers slid over the ridges of his erection, the well defined grooves that frequently drove you crazy when he pushed inside you. Intently you watched, that was until you felt Bucky’s eyes boring into you. Your gaze snapped up to meet his. The smirk on his lips was bigger than ever and for the first time all evening, you felt a blush creep into your already flushed cheeks, the garnacha rosé turning a merlot red. You bit your lip and smiled shyly. It was Bucky who broke eye contact, as his eyes rolled back and his eyelids fluttered furiously.

“Doll, pass me a condom- quickly.” 

“Why?”

“Easier clean up,” he muttered breathlessly. 

“I have a better idea,” you pointed at your mouth. 

There was no time for objections or closing arguments, the verdict was in. Panting slightly, he nodded and you nimbly scooted around to place your mouth at his tip, in time to see him shudder and catch the eruption of his sweet silvery elixir. Bucky did his best to keep his gaze glued to yours, as you swallowed the luscious nectar of his rapture, giving his tip a quick but unauthorized kiss. He watched as you withdrew your lips, stained with succulent drops of milky paradise.

Both of you lay back on the pile of pillows behind you, much more relaxed than you had been before.

“Buck?” you called tentatively.

“Mmmm?” he hummed in response.

“You can call me Mrs. Barnes whenever you like.”

[redgoldsparks]

I wrote a 12 page epilogue to my 2019 comic "Harry Potter and The Problematic Author" because I found, in 2023, that I had more to say. You can also find this comic on my website, and I have PDF copies available on etsy. I may sell print copies at some point in the future.

instagram / patreon / portfolio / etsy / my book / redbubble

Full transcript below the cut.

PAGE 1

Part one: Ruddy Owls!

I was in fourth grade when the first Harry Potter Book was released in the US.

Panel 1: Sometimes our teacher would read it aloud in class. “Mr and Mrs Dursley of number 4 Privat Drive were proud to say they were perfectly normal, thank you very much…”

Panel 2: I was 11 years old when Harry Potter finally broke through my dyslexia and turned me into a reader.

Panel 3: Every night in the summer before sixth grade I waited for the owl carrying my Hogwarts Letter. I cried when it didn’t come. “I have to go to Muggle school!”

PAGE 2

Part Two: Hats

I dedicated myself to being a fan.

Panel 1: I began collecting Harry Potter News article.

Panel 2: I asked my relatives to mail me ones from their local papers. I filled a thick binder with clippings.

Panel 3: I wrote my own trivia quiz

Panel 4: and participated in the one held annually at the county fair. “Next contestant!”

Panel 5: I usually got into one of. the top five spots. I won boxes of candy, posters, stationary, and once a baseball cap. (Hat reads: I survived the battle of Hogwarts).

Panel 6: In high school I sewed a black velvet cape and knitted many stripped scarves.

PAGE 3

Part Three: Double Trouble

Watching the last film in 2011 felt like the final note of my childhood. 

Panel 1: I remember driving home from the midnight showing thinking about the end of 13 years of waiting; wondering what would define the next chapter of my life. 

Panel 2: That same month I heard of something called Pottermore. “Okay, so there’s a sorting quiz… I already know my house! Patronus assignment? Mine’s a barn owl. Duh!" 

Panel 3: You can read the books again but with GIFs? Why? 

Panel 4: I lived in a place with very slow and limited internet at the time. Pottermore sounded inaccessible, but also boring. I never joined. 

Panel 5: "I’ll just read the actual books again, thanks." 

PAGE 4

Part Four: Sweets

In 2016, a series of short stories titled "History of Magic in North America” were released on Pottermore to pave the way for the first Fantastic Beasts Film. These stories display an extreme ignorance of American history, culture, and geography, but the worst parts are the casual misuse of indigenous beliefs and stories. Fans and critics immediately spoke up against this appropriation. Some of the most quoted voices included Nambe Pueblo scholar Dr. Debbie Reese who runs the site “American Indians In Children’s Literature”; Navajo writer Brian Young; Johnnie Jae (Otoe-Missouria and Choctaw), founder of A Tribe Called Geek; Dr Adrienne Keene (Cherokee Nation), a Professor at Brown University who runs the blog “Native Appropriations”, and writers N.K. Jemison and Paula Young Lee.

PAGE 5

Rowling is famous for responding to fans directly on twitter, yet she did not respond to anyone calling out the damaging aspects of “Magic in North America.” Her representatives refused to comment for March 9 2016 article in the Guardian. She has never apologized. All of this, plus the casting of Johnny Depp and the specific declarations of support by JKR, Warner Brothers, and director David Yates left a sour taste in my mouth.

For further thoughts on the new films read The Crimes of Grindelwald is a Mess by Alanna Bennett for Buzzfeed News, November 16, 2018.

PAGE 6

Excerpt from Colonialism in Wizarding American: JK Rowling’s History of Magic in North America Through an Indigenous Lens by Allison Mills, MFA, MAS/MLIS (Cree and Settler French Canadian)

Although Rowling is certainly not the first white author to misstep in her treatment of Indigenous cultures, she has an unprecedented level of visibility and fame, […] One of the most glaring problems with Rowling’s story is her treatment of the many Indigenous nations in North America as one monolithic group. […It] flattens out the diversity of languages, belief systems, and cultures that exist in Indigenous communities, allowing stereotyping to persist. […] It continues a long history of colonial texts which ignore that Indigenous peoples still exist. […] In the Wizarding world, as in the real world, Indigenous histories have been over-written and our cultures erased.

from The Looking Glass: New Perspectives in Children’s Literature Volumn 19, Issue 1

PAGE 7

Part 5: Music

Panel 1: Also in 2016 I discovered two podcasts which radically altered my experience of being an HP fan. The first was Witch Please created by two Canadian feminist literary scholars Hannah McGregor and Marcelle Kosman.

Panel 2: “If it’s not in the text it doesn’t count!” “Close reading ONLY!”

Panel 3: They talk about Harry Potter at the level you’d expect in a college class with particular focus on gender, race, class, and the troubling fatphobia, fear of othered and queer coded bodies, violence against women, white feminism, gaslighting and failed pedagogy in the books. They bring up these issues not because they hate the series, but because they LOVE it.

PAGE 8

These passionate, joyful conversations went off like fireworks in my mind. I had never taken a feminist class before. I gained a whole new vocabulary to talk about the books- and the world.

PAGE 9

Panel 1: The second podcast I started that year was Harry Potter and the Sacred Text, created by two graduates of the Harvard Divinity School, Vanessa Zoltan and Casper Ter Kuile.

Panel 2: They read one chapter per episode through a theme such as love, control, curiosity, shame, responsibility, hospitality, destruction, or mystery. Like Witch Please, they are interested only in the information on the page, not thoughts from the author. The delights and failures of the text are examined in the context of the present day, and new meanings constantly arise.

PAGE 10

What does it mean to treat a text as sacred?

Trusting that the more time we give to it, the more blessings it has to give us.

Reading the text repeatedly with concentrated attention. Our effort is part of what makes it sacred. The text is not in and of itself sacred, but is made so by rigorously engaging in the ritual of reading.

Experiencing it in community.

“To me, the goal of treating the text as sacred is that we learn to treat each other as sacred.” -Vanessa Zoltan

PAGE 11

Part 6: Tooth and Claw

In October 2017, Rowling liked a tweet linking to an article arguing that trans women should be kept out of women’s bathrooms because of cisgender women’s fears. In March 2018, she liked a tweet about the problem of misogyny in the UK Labour Party which included the line “Men in dresses get brosocialist solidarity I never had.” The author of the tweet had previously posted many blatantly anti-trans statements.

Rowlings publicist claimed she had liked the posted by accident in a “clumsy and middle-aged moment.” Yet, in September 2018 she liked a link posted by Janice Turner to her column in the Times UK titled “Trans Rapists Are A Danger In Women’s Jails.”

Screencaps of these tweets can be found in the article “The Mysterious Case of JK Rowling and her Transphobic Twitter History”, January 10 2019 by Gwendolyn Smith (a trans journalist), LGBTQNation.com

PAGE 12

Excerpt from: Is JK Rowling Transphobic? A Trans Woman Investigates by Katelyn Burns

Ultimately, the answer is yes, she is transphobic […] I think it’s fair that she receives criticism from trans people, especially given her advocacy on behalf of queer people in general, but also because she has a huge platform. Many people look up to her for creating a singular piece of popular culture that holds deep meaning for fans from different walks of life, and she has a responsibility to handle that platform wisely. (Published on them.us March 28, 2018)

PAGE 13

Part 7: Home

At age 30, I’m still not over Harry Potter.

Panel 1: I’ve recently found a local bar that does HP trivia nights. “Poppy or Pomona?” “Poppy!”

Panel 2: I currently own an annual pass to Universal Studios so I can visit Hogsmeade.

Panel 3: I love talking to kids who are reading the books for the first time. “Who’s your favorite character?” “Ginny!”

Panel 4: And I’m planning a relisten to the audio books to next year to help me get through the election cycle. “Jim Dale, I’m going to need you more than ever…”

Spoiler from 2023: I did not do this. By mid-2020 JKR had posted her transphobic essay; we were in covid; I never visited Universal Studios again.

PAGE 14

But I do want to learn from her mistakes. I never want to repeat “Magic in North America.” As I write, I will do my research. I will consult experts and compensate them. If a reader from a different culture/background than me speaks up about my work, I will listen and apologize. I KNOW I WILL MAKE MISTAKES. But I will own up to them and I will do better.

PAGE 15

Excerpt from Diversity Is Not Enough: Race, Power and Publishing by Daniel José Older

We can love a thing and still critique it. In fact, that’s the only way to really love a thing. Let’s be critical lovers and loving critics and open ourselves to the truth about where we are and where we’ve been. Instead of holding tight to the same old, failed patriarchies, let’s walk a new road, speak new languages. Today, let’s imagine a literature, a literary world, that carries this struggle for equity in its very essence, so that tomorrow it can cease to be necessary, and disappear. (Buzzfeed, April 14, 2017) 

PAGE 16

Harry Potter is flawed, & JK Rowling is problematic. But the books helped me learn a lot: 

*One of the greatest dangers facing the modern world is the rise of fascism 

*The government cannot be trusted 

*Read and think critically

*Question the news: who paid the journalist? Who owns the paper? 

*Trust and support your friends through good times and bad

*Organize for resistance

*Educate and share resources with peers

*The revolution must be diverse and intersectional

* We are only as strong as we are united

*The weapon we have is love 

MK 2019

PAGE 17

PART 8: EPILOGUE

In 2021 I removed a Harry Potter patch I sewed to my book bag over a decade ago. I took 15 pieces of Harry Potter fanart off my walls. I got rid of my paperback book set, 2 board games, and 8 t-shirt. [images: a Hogwarts a patch with loose threads, a pair of scissors and a seam ripper]

Panel 1: Maia holding up a shirt with the Deathly Hallows logo on it. Maia thinks: “Damn, this really used to be my entire personality.”

Panel 2: The t-shirt gets thrown into the Goodwill box.

PAGE 18

I wrote my zine wrestling with JKR’s legacy in 2019, after her dismissive and racist reaction to indigenous fans and critics of “Magic in North America” and after she had liked a couple transphobic tweets. Since then, she has gotten so much worse.

A Brief Timeline (mostly from this Vox article)

June 2020- JKR posts a 3600 word essay making her anti-trans position clear

August 2020- The Robert F Kennedy Human Rights Org issues a statement about her transphobia, JKR doubles down on her position and returns an award they gave her

December 2020- JKR claims 90% of HP fans secretly agree with her anti-trans views

December 2021- JKR mocks Scottish Police for recognizing transgender identities

March 2022- JKR criticizes gender-inclusive language and legislation

December 2022- JKR retweets trans youtuber Jessie Earl’s critical review of Hogwarts Legacy, starting an onslaught of transphobic harassment towards Earl

December 2022- JKR removes her support from an Edinburgh center for survivors of sexual violence with a trans-inclusive policy and funds her own center which explicitly excludes trans sexual assault survivors

January 2023- JKR tweets “Deeply amused by those telling me I’ve lost their admiration due to disrespect I show violent, duplicitous rapists.” It got nearly 300K likes

March 2023- One the podcast “The Witch Trials of JK Rowling”, hosted by a former Westboro Baptist Church Member, JKR compares the trans rights movement to Death Eaters.

PAGE 19

What are The Witch Trials of JK Rowling?

Panel 1: Maia speaking. “It’s a 7 episode documentary style podcast hosted by Megan Phelps-Roper. Nearly every episode contains interviews with JKR as well as critics, journalists, historians, protestors and fans.

Panel 2: Maia speaking. “In episode 1, JKR speaks more candidly than she has previously about being in an abusive marriage. Her ex-husband hit her, stalked her, broke into her house overlapping with the time she was writing the first three HP books.”

Panel 3: Maia speaking. “What she went through genuinely sounds horrific. I have a lot of sympathy for the kind of life-long traumas those experiences leave.”

PAGE 20

HOWEVER.

It is clear from reading the June 2020 essay on her blog and listening to the podcast, that JKR still to this day feels unsafe. Despite her wealth and privilege she moves through the world with the mindset of a victim. And the group of people she finds most threatening are trans women.

Or rather, she is afraid that allowing trans women in women’s spaces invites the possibility of male predators entering those spaces.

Here’s a direct quote: The problem is male violence. All a predator wants is access and to open the doors of changing rooms, rape centers, domestic violence centers [...] to any male who says “I’m a woman and I have a right to be here” will constitute a risk to women and girls. - from The Witch Trials episode 4 as transcribed by therowlinglibrary.com, March 2023

Image: A stem of Belladonna with flowers and berries.

PAGE 21

Let me introduce here the term: TRANSMISOGYNY. The intersection of transphobia and misogyny, this term was coined by Julia Serano in 2007. Scout Tran, on tiktok as Queersneverdie said: “Transmisogyny occurs in people who have been previously hurt by traditional misogyny. Who have been driven to hate men or at the very least to be scared of men. They will sometimes take out that rage on trans women. (March 2023)

JKR claims to care for trans women and understand they are extremely vulnerable to assault and violence. In her 2020 Essay she wrote: “I want trans women to be safe. At the same time, I do not want to make natal girls and women less safe.”

So she cares about trans women… just less than cis women, and she’s willing to throw all trans women under the bus because of her unfounded, prejudice fears.

PAGE 22

Panel 1: Maia speaking. “JKR claims to have seen data that proves trans women have presented physical threats to other women in intimate spaces, but never cites sources. She also uses “producer of the large gametes” as a definition of “woman”.

What about transmen and nonbinary folks?

Panel 2: Maia leaning on a stack of all seven HP books, the first four Cormorant Strike books and The Casual Vacancy, gesturing to a series of quotes with a tired and disgusted expression.

I’m concerned about the huge explosion of young women wishing to transition and also about the increasing numbers who seem to be detransitioning. * [...] If I’d been born 30 years later, I too might have tried to transition. The allure of escaping womanhood would have been huge. -June 10 2020 essay

I don’t believe a 14 year old can truly understand what the loss of their fertility is.

-Witch Trials episode 4

I haven’t yet found a study that hasn’t found that the majority of young people experiencing gender dysphoria grow out of it*. -Witch Trials episode 7

*No sources cited

PAGE 23

It’s hard to over emphasize how fixated JKR has become on these topics. As of the date I’m writing this, 14 out of her 20 most recent tweets (70%) are in some way anti-trans. She tweets against Mermaids (a UK based trans youth charity), against trans athletes, against gender neutral bathrooms, and in support of LBG Alliance- a UK org that denies trans rights while upholding gay rights. Here are some gems from her archive:

“People who menstruate.” I’m sure there used to be a word for those people. Someone help me out. Wumben? Wimpund? Woomud? -June 2020

War is Peace. Freedom is Slavery. Ignorance is Strength. The Penised Individual Who Raped You Is a Woman. - December 2021

And in response to someone asking “How do you sleep at night knowing you lost a whole audience?”

I read my most recent royalty cheques and find the pain goes away pretty quickly. -October 2022

PAGE 24

Hashtag Ruthless Productions a queer nerd podcast company created a great guide on ethical engagement with HP. Image: the two hosts of Hashtag Ruthless productions, Jessie (They/she) and Lark (he/him).

Stop buying all official HP Products: books, movies, games, toys, etc, Universal Studios tickets, food, merch.* Boycott any new TV series or movies. Instead: buy the books and DVDs used. If you still want to wear HP merch, buy fan-made. Engage only with fan content: fic, podcasts, fanart, wizard rock, etc. Show transphobia is bad for business. None of this will change JKR’s mind. But the Fantastic Beast series was canceled and after record Pottermore sales in 2020, they fell in 2022 by 40%.

*She gets a portion of ALL tickets. In 2019, this was her largest income source. Read the full guide: hashtagruthless.com/resourceguide

PAGE 25

As late as 2019, I was still reading JKR’s murder mystery series. But by the fourth book my experience began to sour.

Panel 1: Maia holding a copy of Lethal White. “The only gay character in this book is a government official who gropes his staff?”

Panel 2: “The only genderqueer character is misgendered and portrayed as a whiny faker?”

Panel 3: “The only Muslim character is disowned by his family over gay rumors?”

Panel 4: “Even the women aren’t portrayed very well…”

Panel 5: “Why is the main female character defined by the rape in her past?”

Panel 6: “Wait, what happens in the rest of this series…?” Maia scrolls on eir phone.

Panel 7: “Is the series heading towards an employee/boss relationship?”

Panel 8: “And has a man wearing women’s clothes to commit assault?”

Panel 9: “Yeah, I’m done. I’m never reading a new JKR book ever again.”

PAGE 26

And as for JKR herself?

As tempting as it might be to tweet your frustrations at her, I don’t recommend it. In 2021, she tweeted, “Hundreds of trans activists have threatened to beat, rape, assassinate and bomb me.” Getting hate online feeds her sense of victimhood and she waves it as proof of her moral high ground. Instead I suggest you block her on twitter, then delete twitter, go to the library and try to find a new book that feels magical.

Stack of books: In Other Lands by Sarah Rees Brennan, The Scorpio Races by Maggie Stiefvater, Gifts by Ursula K Le Guin, Deep Wizardry by Diane Duane, A Deadly Education by Naomi Novik and Gideon the Ninth by Tamsin Muir.

PAGE 27

In “Emergent Strategy” adrienne maree brown writes: You do not have the right to traumatize abusive people, to attack them, personally or publicly, or to sabotage anyone else’s health. The behaviors of abuse are also survival-based, learned behaviors rooted in pain. If you can look through the lens of compassion, you will find hurt and trauma there. If you are the abused party, healing that hurt is not your responsibility and exacerbating that pain is not your justified right.

PAGE 28

Seeing anyone over age 12 wearing HP merch now makes me uncomfortable. Are they ignorant or actively a TERF? I hate wondering how much money JKR has probably poured into anti-trans legislation… This zine is a culmination of my slow breakup with a story that once brought me joy. Now it just makes me angry, tired and sad.

Image: Candle in a fancy holder burned down to less than an inch.

Maia Kobabe, 2023

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight: Part 11

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 10 | Series Masterlist | Part 12

Chapter Summary: Bucky reveals a small piece of his past and also confirms one of your suspicions.

Chapter Word Count: Over 3.6k

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, tension, unease, possessiveness, inner turmoil, gaslighting, manipulation, mention of stalking, slight feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight and hope you enjoy! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You busied yourself with orders after Clark left, but it didn’t stop you from looking toward the door every few minutes. You weren’t sure if you were expecting him to return or if you were anticipating Bucky arriving. Why were you allowing him to consume your thoughts again? You needed to concentrate on your job, the thing you loved and helped pay your bills.

Mrs. Crandle gave you a smile when you checked the time, too. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were excited to see this young man who thinks he’s your boyfriend,” she commented.

“I don’t know if excited is the word I’d use,” you said, trying to smile through your nerves. “Apprehensive, maybe?”

She hummed, looking over your recent arrangement with a proud gaze. “I can understand that. It’s been a bit since you’ve been in a relationship,” she said, giving your arm a small squeeze. “But don’t be too apprehensive, dear. It’s okay to let someone in.”

You bit your tongue when you wanted to blurt out that Bucky didn’t just let himself in. He tore through your life and made a home for himself in the ashes. But Mrs. Crandle meant well and didn’t know what was going on. “Well, he offered to be my date to Addison’s wedding and she was very happy to hear that.”

��Oh, I’ll bet she’s thrilled for you,” she said. Addison stopped by the shop a few times and your boss adored her and the friendship you two had. “And if I’m not mistaken, that’s your date walking in,” she smiled, nodding toward the door.

Your stomach dropped when Bucky entered the shop with a tender smile on his face. “Hi, doll,” he said, heading right to you and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I hope I’m not too early to take you to lunch, but I don’t mind waiting if you’re busy.”

“Oh, it’s not too early at all,” Mrs. Crandle said before you could protest. “It’s nice to see such a fine young man take one of my best workers to lunch.”

Bucky put his right hand to his chest. “A fine young man? You flatter me, Mrs. Crandle. It is Mrs. Crandle, right?” He held the same hand out after she nodded. Of course, he knew her name. You almost smacked his arm away, not wanting the man who disrupted your life to touch your boss. “Everyone calls me Bucky. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, too,” she said, giving you a wink. One smile from the man and she was under his spell. “I hear the two of you may be attending Addison’s wedding together.”

You gave her a pointed look when Bucky smiled your way, wishing she hadn’t brought it up. She either ignored your stare or didn’t notice. “That’s the plan. I know the day will be all about Addison and Brady, as it should be, but my eyes will be on my girl,” Bucky smiled, giving the shop an appreciative look as your stomach flipped. “And it’s easy to see why she loves working here. You have a beautiful place.”

“Thank you. It really is a group effort to keep this place alive,” she said, turning her attention to you. “Well, what are you waiting for? Get your bag and go enjoy your lunch.”

“I can work through it. There are still a few orders to finish,” you protested, which was a reasonable excuse.

“I’m not making you work through lunch.” She looked offended by the very idea. And of course, she wouldn’t give you an out. Like most of your small circle of friends and loved ones, they wanted you to find a partner. “And don’t worry about the orders, dear. You two lovebirds go and take as long as you want.”

Lovebirds?

“I’ll try not to keep her too long,” Bucky said as you went to get your purse. “So, how long have you owned your shop?”

You blocked out the chatter between them, taking a breath to steady yourself. How many times had you imagined a boyfriend surprising you at work just because they wanted to take you to lunch? Or even just because they wanted to see you? You got your wish, didn’t you?

“I’ll be back soon,” you smiled as Bucky wrapped an arm around your lower back, crowding your space like always. Mrs. Crandle looked over the moon and you made sure the smile stayed on your face until Bucky led you out of the shop. “Sucking up to my boss? Really?”

Bucky chuckled. “I wasn’t sucking up. Just making conversation,” he said. The small conversation won her over. “And didn't you try to get Ray on your side this morning?”

He had a point, but you ignored it. “Where are we eating?” You asked, though you didn’t have much of an appetite.

“I got us a table at a cafe close by,” he said, tightening his arm around you. “I figured you wouldn’t want to go far in case you had to get back to work.”

“That’s thoughtful,” you said, though it was actually nice that he didn’t want you to venture far.

“I’m a thoughtful guy,” he teased. Making sure it was safe to go, he helped you cross the street. Ray stayed in the car, but you sensed him watching and wondered if he’d join you. “And I got us a private table on the back patio. No one should bother us.”

“They do private tables at this cafe?” You asked as he held the door open with a smirk. He probably threw a bit of money their way to make it happen and you almost wished there would be others around so you’d feel a bit more comfortable.

“Welcome, Mr. Barnes,” a woman smiled, not bothering to look your way as she grabbed a couple of menus. “We have your table set up if you’ll follow me,” she said, gesturing for you to head to the back.

Much like walking into the club, you felt out of place as you walked through the cafe. Not because it wasn’t your scene, but because of the special sort of treatment. You didn’t want it. Though the ambience of the fairy lights and privacy would’ve been sweet and romantic otherwise.

“The server should be here in a moment, but please let me know if you need anything,” the hostess smiled, her gaze lingering on Bucky as he pulled out your chair. “Anything at all, Mr. Barnes.”

You felt a bit small as you sat down and eyed the hostess. It was her job to be friendly, but she hadn’t exactly acknowledged you and made it obvious that she specifically wanted Bucky’s attention. You wouldn’t say you were jealous and part of you understood why she’d want him to look her way. Still, wouldn’t the general assumption be that you two were a couple?

We are not a couple.

You looked up at Bucky when he rested a hand on your shoulder, but there was nothing flirtatious or warm about the smile on his face. “If my girl or I need anything, we’ll say so,” he said in a cool and courteous tone.

“Of course.” The hostess faltered slightly as she set the menus down, but recovered quickly. “Enjoy,” she added, scurrying off.

Bucky’s hand lingered until she was out of sight. “I don’t appreciate that she didn’t look your way,” he said, shrugging his jacket off before he took a seat. You could see the tension in his shoulders, his gloved left hand flexing slightly. “It’s clear that we’re here together on a lunch date.”

Your eyes flickered to him as he looked over the menu, his jaw clenched. The hostess giving him attention bothered him much more than it bothered you. “It’s okay, Bucky,” you said.

“No, it’s not. It’s disrespectful. I’m here with you. I’m not interested in her or anyone else.” His eyes were as cold as ice when he pushed the menu away, making you shiver. “I’m not like my dad.”

“I know I’m the only one you see,” you said, reaching over to touch his hand. He took it the second it was within reach. You didn’t think he’d do anything to hurt or damage the hostess in any way over something harmless in your eyes, but maybe offering a bit of assurance would distract him. “I don’t know your dad, but I can sense that you aren’t him.”

At least, he wasn’t entirely like him. His ruthlessness came from something or someone. His dad may fit the bill.

“He cheated on my mom when she was nothing but good to him. She was good to everyone and he threw it back in her face,” he sneered. You could practically taste the bitterness from his words and it broke your heart. It was no wonder he wanted you to believe so badly that he’d be faithful to you. “And I’m glad that piece of shit will never lay eyes on you or anyone else.”

“I’m so sorry,” you said, aching for the pain his mom likely experienced and him by extension. Regardless of the man he was, he held his mom in high regard and she didn’t deserve an unfaithful partner. “I know that doesn’t change anything, but I am.”

Bucky’s gaze softened considerably. “I know you are and I appreciate that more than you know.” He rubbed a thumb over your skin, his shoulders starting to relax. “The cheating wasn’t even the worst of it,” he muttered before the server walked in with a pitcher of water.

What else did his dad do?

“Hi. I’ll be taking care of you today,” the server smiled, sweeping a look over both of you as he poured each of you a glass. Bucky barely smiled back. He didn’t want people ignoring you, but he didn’t want gazes lingering for too long either. “Have you had a chance to look over the menu or would you like something else to drink?”

“I’m fine with water and I think we’re ready,” you said, pointing out one of the entrees. You didn’t want to draw out lunch longer than it had to be. “Thank you.”

“I’ll have the same. And take your time,” Bucky said, handing the menus back. His smile didn’t brighten again until the server left. “Talking about my dad is dampening the mood. How’s work going today?”

The subject change was jarring, but you imagined he didn’t want to dwell on the unpleasant topic. It also wasn’t a good time to ask about his mom and the flowers. “Work is fine.”

“Just fine?”

You debated if you should say anything about Clark. You didn’t want him on Bucky’s radar, but what if Bucky somehow found out and you didn’t say anything? Telling him was the better option. “Well, there’s a regular customer who stopped in. He’s going through a break-up and actually tried to give me a couple of roses since I was kind to him, but I didn’t take them,” you explained, trying not to make a big deal of it.

The glint in Bucky’s eyes made you nervous, but you knew any malice wasn't aimed your way. “He tried to give you roses and you didn’t take them?” He asked evenly.

“No, I didn’t. I told him to give them to someone else as I’m very much not interested in getting flowers. Except maybe from you,” you assured him, his lips twitching up. That was a good sign. “What about you? How’s work?” You added, hoping to shift the topic back to him.

A moment of silence passed before he nodded. “If he persists or bothers you, let me know first thing and I’ll take care of it,” he said. You had a feeling the topic of Clark was far from done and you didn’t want to know how he’d take care of it. “I do have to go to the club late tonight, but I was thinking we could go shopping after your shift.”

“Shopping?” You raised an eyebrow. “Shopping for what?”

“I did offer to get you a new outfit for your girls day,” he said, rubbing circles on your hand. “And a collar.”

The nagging feeling in the back of your mind went off. That was the second time he brought that up. One would think he was doing it on purpose. “You know, I mentioned you getting me a collar, but that was something I said when I was alone this morning. Along with a couple of other things you've mentioned, it’s too much of a coincidence to me that you’re suggesting it,” you said carefully, sitting up straighter. “Do you have cameras or something in my home? Be honest, please.”

He observed you, almost in morbid curiosity as you waited for him to respond. You knew what the answer was going to be, but you wanted to believe your paranoia was getting to you. “First, your apartment isn’t your home. The penthouse is going to be our home together and maybe that’ll finally sink in once you’re living there,” he answered, your eyes wide. “And second, of course I have bugs around your place. Visual, audio, you name it. I’m not exactly trying to hide that I’m watching you as much as possible.”

You felt sick at the admission, thankful that you hadn’t eaten anything. How much did he see and hear? Did he listen to your talk with Addison? Watch you shower? Sleep? He continued to violate your privacy and had no shame at all in doing so. Enough was enough.

“You’re not exactly trying to hide it? You hid it by not telling me!” You accused him, the gaslighting bastard. “How could you do that?”

He shrugged, which only upset you more. “Mentioning the collar was a pretty big hint. Do you really think I’d bring it up if I didn’t want you to know I was watching or listening in?”

“You…” You let out a breath and swallowed back tears. He really did want you to know. “You want me to feel scared, don't you, like when you broke in. Because when you scare me or make me feel uneasy, you can control me more and get me to do what you want. You’re sick.”

He reached out and gripped your hand again before you could push yourself away from the table. “I thought we established that I’m not trying to control you. How many times do I have to say it?”

“And yet everything you do says otherwise,” you said. It was all a tactic to him. A game. “When will your actions back up your words?”

“I told you this morning my place is safer than yours. The security measures in your building are a joke. Do you realize how easy it was for me to get in and to break into your place? I hardly broke a sweat and that means anyone could get in and get to you. So, yes, there are devices in place so I can make sure you’re safe when I’m not there.” He shook his head at your glare. His reasoning didn’t excuse his actions. “I understand if you’re mad at me, but I did say I won’t give you a choice when it comes to your safety and I won’t apologize for that either.”

You stared at each other, his gaze as firm as his stance. As much as you wanted to throw something, the dishes weren’t yours and you didn’t want to create a mess for the staff to clean up. “You’re really telling yourself you’re watching me for my protection? Who the hell is going to protect me from you, Bucky?” You took a breath when his eyes widened, as if your words hurt him. “No one, with the exception of you, is going to break into my place for any reason. I have nothing of value there, except for the necklace you gave me.”

“You are valuable,” he said, squeezing your hand and resolute in that belief. “How can you not see that?”

“Because I’m just a regular person and there’s nothing wrong with that.” Your voice shook, but you couldn't stop. “With the exception of you, no one will look twice at me, let alone break into my place.”

He shook his head. “You don’t know that.”

“No, I don’t because life is unpredictable and watching me doesn’t guarantee that nothing will happen to me,” you said, narrowing your eyes in thought. “Is this really about protecting me or are you projecting what your dad did to your mom on me? Do you think I won’t be faithful to you in this ‘relationship’ you think we have, so you have to watch me at all times to prove I’m yours?”

Bucky made a sound like you hit him and asking was a bit of a low blow, but it was a possibility. “Kotyonok, you’re one of the most loyal and faithful people I know. You’d never do anything to make me question that.”

“You trust me?” You asked softly. He nodded without hesitation. “Then help me trust you. Get the devices out of my place for starters since you had no right to put them there to begin with. Please, get rid of them.”

You’d never feel completely safe or comfortable there again, you hadn't since he broke in, but he had to give you that.

“I'll get rid of them,” he said after a moment.

That felt too easy, but you felt relief all the same. “Thank you. That's-”

“After you move into the penthouse because I'm not going to give a shit about the people who move into your apartment after you,” he clarified.

You swallowed thickly. He was never going to budge. “You sit there and act like you’re a decent guy because you haven’t forced yourself on me and you won’t raise a hand to me, but you’re still a monster,” you said, your gaze vulnerable and open. He had to see how upset you were, how he caused you to feel.

His expression didn’t change, except for his eyes. They looked as sad as you felt. “Maybe I am,” he whispered.

The server chose the perfect time to show up with your meals. “Here we are!” he announced, setting the food down and taking no notice of the heavy tension between you and Bucky. “Enjoy.”

Neither of you spoke as you ate, but he watched you expectantly. He wasn’t going to change his mind about the bugs in your apartment or anything else and he didn’t deserve your fire. So you had nothing to say. Nothing at all. You were exactly what he called you: a doll.

“Don’t you dare,” he finally spoke when you took money out of your wallet and set it on the table. “This is a date and I’m paying.”

“This isn’t a date, Bucky, no matter how much you want it to be,” you said quietly, his eyes flashing. “And I need to go back to work.”

You gasped when he bent the fork he held in his left hand, your heart pounding in fear as you looked around. The server hadn’t been back to check on you and the two of you were all alone. What was he going to do? “What? You think I’m going to hurt you after I promised I wouldn’t?” He asked, setting the destroyed utensil down. “Because I’m a monster, right?”

“I didn’t…” You couldn’t say you didn’t mean it because you did, but deep down it wasn’t your intention to make him angry. You should’ve known better, but your emotions were getting the better of you when you had to play it smart.

“A monster who hurts people?” He asked in a deep voice you didn’t recognize. “Kills people?”

You gripped the sides of your chair, fear creeping in more. “Bucky, what are you talking about?” You whispered. Why was he saying that?

He blinked and shook his head. “Why won’t you just let me love you?” He asked, suddenly getting up to round the table. He pulled your chair out before you could get up and dropped to his knees, uncaring of ruining his pants. “All I want is you,” he whispered, resting his head in your lap.

Your body went taut when his hands moved up your thighs. Did he remember or care that you were at a cafe? “I-I know you want me.”

“I know the bugs in your place are upsetting and I know I’m being stubborn about it, so let me make it up to you a little bit, please?” He asked, lifting his head to gaze at you. “Let me take you shopping tonight. Let me spoil you.”

“I…” You went silent when he slid a hand up your torso and rested it on your chest. Could you play along to calm him down? “I guess we can go shopping. Nothing too fancy, right?”

“Whatever makes you happy. I just want my girl to be happy.” He groaned when you willingly ran your fingers through his hair. “And you’ll love me like I love you. I know you will.”

You waved off the server when he tried to check on you and gave Bucky a shaky smile. You’d go shopping with him, keep him happy, and pray he wouldn’t continue to suffocate you with his version of love. It was too late though. The very oxygen you breathed now was what he fed into your lungs. And the monster that lurked beneath the surface, the one who needed you, was eventually going to break through and get what he wanted.

Maybe he’d get a taste tonight.

So, I wanted a bit of action in this part, but the muse refused. I swear the conversations are happening for a reason and we may see some action during the shopping trip. What are we going to do knowing your place really is bugged? And is he going to look into Clark more? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[cyber333angel]

LUMBERJACK!LOGAN X FARMERSDAUGHTER!READER

the two of you would have met for the first time at your fathers house, logan introducing himself as a the new supplier for wood at your families barn. your dad was too busy to go out and buy wood so on a stroll through town he heard about a newcomer being good at exactly that. he shook your hand and he smiled at you, the most charming smile you have ever seen and you introduced yourself shyly as well. you were a little nervous for some reason, probably because you don’t see a lot of people living in the countryside especially handsome ones like this. you go off doing something else and after a couple more minutes of conversation your father calls you back to him and logan, telling you that you needed to show him around and tell him where to drop off the wood when it’s time for deliveries. smiling through your anxiety, you go up to him, “this way mr. howlett, uh this is the-“ and your cut off suddenly, “you can call me logan. no need for the formality.” and you nod, him dropping the professionalism made you feel a little more at ease. “oh alright logan, this way here is the horses stables.” chuckling at your insinuation of his name he watches you as you walk in front of him, white dress swaying side to side as you go farther throughout the land. the whole get-up looks gorgeous on you from head to toe, your little cowgirl hat that covers your braided plaits, the snug dress that hugs your curves and the brown cowboy shows to complete. from this first meeting he knew it was gonna be hard to work for your father, already looking at his daughter this way.

after a few weeks go by your aquatinted with logan, not exactly friends but you had small conversations everytime he came by. watching him as he loaded logs of wood into this shed looking handsome as ever working out like that, your little schoolgirl crush getting bigger at every sneaking glance you took. and one day your father had some business to attend to out of town leaving you alone, telling you to handle all deliveries and duties around the barn without him. so you spend all day taking over the work your dad usually does when you get a call, your dad telling you that logan would be coming in with a late delivery and to help him unload his truck. you were gonna be alone with logan, in your house that was empty, your mind was filled with thoughts but you quickly shooed them away. which was best because logan arrived at the gates thirty minutes later pulling into the driveway with a wave and the same charming smile as always, stepping out of the car in some red flannel and jeans. “hey kid, I see your stepping up to your old man’s jobs now huh?” he says chuckling and you smile walking to the back of his trunk, “yeah for today, ill leave it to you guys to carry pounds of wood every friday afternoon. splinters are not really my forte.” and logan grins, for the past couple of weeks of seeing glances of you during deliveries you weren’t doing manual labor like your father, mostly tending to the garden and taking care of the animals and he thought that naturalistic side of you was absolutely adorable.

you guys make usual small talk while hauling the logs of wood to the shed, dusting your hands. you get an idea to invite logan in after all this hard work, it’s only fair after all the heavy lifting and you both could use something to rejuvenate you. “um if your not busy after this would you want something to drink or eat before you hit the road?” you say, your anxiety creeping up a bit after doing something your not used to like inviting a someone into your home, one you have a crush on at that. logan nods rolling up his sleeves, “yeah thanks I would love a drink.” he says and you lead the way to the house, setting down at the kitchen. “umm we have some soda, water or juice? food wise we have leftovers from dinner yesterday, we could also make a sandwich or have the snacks in the pantry.” none of those really suite logans interest which makes him ask, “you got any beer?” and you think, remembering your dad keeps beer at the lowest part of the fridge, you grab one for him and you, going back and sitting at the island. “thanks kid.” making you smile with a quiet “no problem.” you watch logan crack open the beer with his teeth looking like he did this a million times before and you twist open the bottle with your hand, opting out on breaking your teeth.

the silence between you was very awkward as you trail your eyes at everything around you except logan, suddenly hearing him speak. “you don’t drink?” you look at him confused, his eyes pointing to the beer bottle that only has a sip taken from it. “no not really, it’s more for my dad. the taste is kind bitter to me, but i couldn’t let you drink alone!” you say with a giggle making logan smile as he takes another long swig at his drink. “well thanks for sticking around anyway. i also gotta ask how is it living on a barn miles away from civilization?” logan says poking fun at you once again, “it’s not that far, and it’s nice. very peaceful..although it’s too peaceful sometimes, there’s not many people to talk too out here other than when we go to sell crops.” he thinks for a moment, looking lost in thought as he comes up with a question that almost make you cough out loud. “so I take it that you don’t talk to many boys then huh?”the snarky question making you stare at him in awe, stuttering out an answer. “I have before if you must know, it didn’t go anywhere because he moved away.. but you already know I don’t talk to a lot of people which is s’kind of embarrassing, not having a relationship or a first kiss.. you probably have experienced all that already.” you say the relationship and kiss part quietly, not knowing why you said that in the first place thinking that sip of beer earlier had you out of sorts already.

the news of you not having any relationship was quite surprising to logan, you are such a pretty girl he thought guys would be lining up to date you. “it’s not embarrassing so don’t worry your head about that and sure I’ve had my share of..relationships but it’s nothing special as people make it out to be. if you want I can even help you with your little problem.” he hears himself get carried away with that last sentence, the damage being undoable as you try to think of he really said that. the older man that works for your father, really just said that? “really? you would kiss me?” of course he would kiss you, it’s taking a lot from him to not pounce on you right then and there. and logan just nods, scooting his chair back so you have space to sit. “yeah, come sit. it’s just a kiss.” he says patting at his lap with the beer bottle still in his hand, you hesitate but climb onto the seat making yourself comfortable on his legs. placing one of your arms around his neck for balance, waiting for his next move. “calm down bub your hearts practically beating out your chest.” he says chuckling and you just softly smile, embarrassed he can hear how nervous you are. “ready? don’t be so nervous, y’re okay, doing just fine already baby.” he says that as if that could make you any calmer, sliding his hand on your waist to make you come closer. you’re breathing so hard you could hear the breaths, closing your eyes trying to copy what the girls do in the romance movies you used to watch, and you feel your lips touch his. soft with a faint smell of beer, a very gentle kiss with his rough hand holding the side of your jaw.

you think to yourself how much more you crave from him, not only wanting his lips but it’s too late. he pulls away from the kiss to see you, looking around in your eyes to see if he wasn’t the only one that enjoyed it a little more than he should have. “lemme have a look at ya, how was it bub? hmm, was it good?” you chew the inside of your mouth staring at him, your chest heaving up and down as you try to come up with a way to ask for more. “it was great..” you say dropping your head to his chest, “would you be mad if I wanted t’do it again?” you say quietly, waiting for a response only hoping he wants it as bad as you, and he does, he wants even more than what your thinking of. your jaw is picked up by his hands as logan rests it on your cheek, looking at you so softly. “kid i could would never be mad at you, especially about something like that c’mere.” he says smiling into the kiss, this time going in deeper, sucking on your lips as if he wanted to eat you. beneath you, you feel something hard rising against your heat, pushing through logans jeans and up into your dress. you rub your thighs together trying to relief yourself from the throbbing sensation in your cunt from all this kissing but it doesn’t work, all your commotion alerting logan. “what happened down here bub?” he says rubbing his hand up and down your thighs, getting needier by the minute ypu snap and take logans hand, spreading your legs open and holding it in between your legs. “I need you to touch me lo..” you whine, a newfound nickname you gave him, probably resulting from how needy you were. this was all you needed to say to set him off, the position you were sat in, the pleading eyes and that goddamn sentence just now. he lifts you up wrapping your legs around his waist as he basically ravishes at your lips, growling at you through the kiss walking out the kitchen. “where’s your room?” he says looking like he’s on a mission and your bust out in giggles pointing him up the stairs to your room. you get you your bedroom and logan places you on the bed, you watch him as he takes off his shirt, still kissing you and traveling down all over your body. sucking and biting at your lips he spreads your legs in front of him, grabbing your underwear from underneath your dress and sliding it down your legs making you shiver. “I have to stretch you out a bit alright bub? come sit here.” he says motioning to you for the spot in between his legs, doing as your told you make yourself comfortable, not ever having done this before you let logan guide the way. he rests his hand on your waist, sitting behind you kissing your neck as his other hand travels down your pussy, his rough fingers coated in your slick just from the slight touch. “you really needed my help huh needy girl..” he says whispering, taking two fingers and spreading apart your folds looking at how wet you were. he pushes two digits in and you wince, his thick fingers already feeling so good you can’t even imagine how it would feel when he actually fucks you.

logan keeps thrusts his fingers in and out your cunt as you squirm around in his lap, stimulation sending you over the edge especially with the sweet whispers logan says in your ear. “atta girl, your swallowing up my fingers good bub..” praising you as you whine in his lap grabbing at his neck behind you, “s’enough now logan.. gon-gonna cum!” you say with a sob, you could feel how deep his fingers were stretching you, you could feel his thumb circling around your clit and you could only take so much. “good girl cum on my fingers..” and you do just that, coating his two digits with your mess, leaving a white ring at the base of his fingers. he has you out of breath, your head resting on his chest as you come down from the intensity. logan keeps you close to him, swaying a little back and forth letting you collect yourself, planting kisses on your neck as he slowly removes your white dress. taking the straps off and unzipping it, “up.” he says, wanting you to lift your arms and you do tiredly, you get up from his lap and lay down on your bed staring at logan. you watch as he unbuckles his pants, a bulge prodding and stretching the fabric of his boxers. “we’re gonna take it slow alright, if we go too fast you’ll get hurt so let me take care of you baby..” he’s says to you but you can barely hear, focused on his dick that is now out of his boxers standing tall, wondering if you were too confident and if you can even take all of him. he moves both your legs to be spread out on sides of his body, positioning himself in front of your cunt. “you ready?” logan asks you and you nod, earning a disapproving head shake from logan. “words bub, c’mon.” he says again tapping at your cheek, “yes m’ready logan!” you say, a certain huffiness in your tone just waiting for him to put it in. he pushes the tip of his cock in, already feeling a huge difference from his just his fingers, grunting above you. “fuck baby..so fuckin tight for me..” you can only sob in response, scratching at his back trying to brace yourself for taking in all his length. “hngh it’s s’really big lo!” you say, your body rocking against the bed as he thrust into you, slow strokes into your wet cunt making you feel every inch. “taking me so good sweet girl, so fuckin good..” he says kissing at your neck, being ever so gentle with you as he plows himself into your pussy, your messy cunt being heard all over the room. you feel a tremble in your tummy, the same feeling you got when you were stuffed with logans fingers just a few moments before. grasping at his back you look up at him with needy eyes, the older man locks eyes with you and it’s like he can read your mind. reaching his hand down to your achey cunt and rubbing your clit, he has you quivering under him with your legs shaking. “yeah you gonna cum for me baby hm?”

nodding at him suddenly you let out a gasp, feeling logan press down on your stomach as he’s fully deep inside you, the print of his dick showing in the pudge of your tummy. it makes you whine even more from all the pressure, closing your quivering legs in on his waist from the stimulation and the intense pressure as he snickers above you, “feels good huh bubba..” you cry when he hits that deep spot in you, your hands rushing to his abdomen trying to make him slow down. “w-wait logan please! that’s too much!” and he just smiles down at you, “move your hands, look your already taking me so well..your okay baby c’mon.” he says as you take your arms away hesitantly, the tears in your eyes rolling off your cheek onto the bed. “good girl, see?” taking one of his hands and grabbing the both of yours placing it at the top of your head making it harder for you to squirm, pounding into you as you begin to climax. “m’cumming logan..!” you slur out, unconsciously squeezing around logans length, “fuck me too baby.. give it to me c’mon.” he says wincing, loud squelches echoing in the room as you both cum together, hearing him growl above you feel him filling your hole, grunting as he makes sure you take all of it. you lay there on the bed catching your breath as you come down from your high, logan comes into your view holding your cheek in his hand rubbing it, “did so for me good pretty girl, you wanna get cleaned up?” and you nod your head tiredly, “mm yes please but can you do it for me lo..” you say, eyes already shutting down on you making logan smile, “sure kid.” he says picking you up, walking to the bathroom with you in his arms wondering how the hell is he gonna show up for work with your dad next week.

[queers-gambit]

Adore Her, Dior Her

prompt: ( requested ) what good is having all that money if he can't spend it on the woman he loves?

pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Marvel

word count: 4.3k+

warnings: author foams at the mouth for Mafia AUs, overwhelming fluff, cursing, not edited.

"That's the one. That's one we should get!"

"You've said that about the past three dresses, Buck!" You groaned, smoothing your hands over the skirt. "We need to narrow this down, okay? The wedding's in a month!"

"Why did we even agree to go?"

You glared, "'Cause we love my brother and we're supporting him."

"But she's just so - "

"Jen. Her name's Jen."

Bucky nodded, leaning back on the cushioned chair, "Well, Jen's just wrong for him. Literally the definition of toxic."

"Does it count if they're toxic together? To each other?" You sighed, standing on the pedestal and turning to look in the three mirrors beside the dressing room.

"Of course it does," he stood, buttoning his suit jacket out of habit. He approached you, head cocking as he looked your body up and down to get the full view of the gown you tried on. "You're really okay letting him marry her? Turn this way a bit, baby, lemme see the front."

You scoffed, but took his offered hand and twisted on the small platform towards him, "You were there at Christmas, he doesn't listen to reason. So, if Daniel's convinced Jen's for him, as his sister, my only job is be supportive."

"They literally abuse each other," he pointed out.

"Well, he's not changing his mind. Okay? It's been three years, he won't budge, whenever someone brings up them breaking up, he goes into hiding - so, I don't know what else I can do," your hands slapped your thighs when you shrugged, "except just be there for him. Now, focus, please, help me narrow a dress down."

He shook his head as you turned to face the mirrors again, "Actually, you know what? I don't think anything in this store is for us."

The attendant perked up and scurried over, rushing, "Oh, well, we have a much larger selection in the back, Mr. Barnes - "

"That won't be necessary, Barbra, thank you, though," he nodded. "Doll," his hand planted on your waist, head over your shoulder as you still looked yourself over in the mirrors, "go get changed, I know where we need to go."

"Bucky, no, there's plenty of options here," you argued, twisting on the wee little pedestal to face him again. "We don't need to drop a stack on a dress - "

"You let me worry about the price tag," he smirked, leaning in to peck your cheek. "Just go change, pretty girl, c'mon. Step-to!"

You offered Barbra, the attendant, an apologetic smile as you shuffled back into the changing room; quickly stripping from the dress. When you exited in your street clothes, Bucky was tipping the aged woman for her effort in gathering your options, but the moment he saw you, his hand was extending to hold yours tightly.

"What was wrong with that store?" You asked when you stepped onto the noisy and busy street to approach the sleek, tinted car Bucky drove for day-to-day errands.

"We're not shopping at David's fucking Bridal."

"You literally drove us here," you laughed.

"Yeah, and then I had a much better idea," he smirked at you, unlocking the car and opening your passenger door. "C'mon, princess, just gotta trust me."

"Last time you said that - "

"That wasn't my fault," he groaned, cheeks flaring red in embarrassment. When you opened your mouth to retort, he rushed, "Aht, nope, don't say shit. C'mon, I'm taking you somewhere special so get that pretty ass in the car."

He grinned when you laughed and did as bid, feet safely inside when he closed the door after you were settled. Bucky easily jogged around the back of his car, New York busy this time of year as traffic flew past on the street and forced Buck slow. He dropped into the driver's seat, sniffling slightly.

"Reminds me," Bucky smirked as he pulled onto the street, "how would you feel about us going to Aspen this winter?"

You sighed, "Why?"

"You wanna stay in New York for Christmas?"

"Well, yeah! It's so magical."

"Okay, so, we can go over New Years?"

You sighed, "You know, we don't have to go anywhere..."

"Sweetheart," he cleared his throat, "I actually have some business in Aspen, this will just help determine when I schedule the meetings for."

"Oh," you nodded slowly.

He sighed, "I know my job isn't orthodox, but business is business, right, sugar?”

"No, yeah, yeah, I get it. It sounds kinda nice, maybe we can go skiing."

"You know how to ski?"

"No, but I'm sure someone in Aspen could help teach me."

Bucky grinned. The drive was full of easy conversation, neither you nor Bucky dwelling on his business dealings, always feeling as if it was taboo given his station in the Mafia. So when he pulled up in front of a designer store, you gawked. "Now, if we can't find something here - "

"Um, absolutely not," you laughed. "Bucky, I can't even afford to walk into a place like that!"

"Good thing I'm paying," he smirked. He assisted you out of the car, tossing his keys to one of his security guards who had been following in a separate, tinted vehicle. When you both entered the dimly lit store, you were blown away by the gorgeous minimalist design; warm lighting, open floor space, and racks of different clothing options.

"Ah, Mr. Barnes! Hello, hello, hello!" A new attendant greeted with more enthusiasm than you would've greeted any of your clients, approaching you two. She shook your boyfriend's hand vigorously, "To what do we owe this pleasure?"

Bucky wrapped his arm around your waist, "Looking for a dress to wear to a wedding."

She offered you a forced smile, telling your boyfriend swiftly with her teeth on full display, "You came to the right spot!"

"See?" Bucky smirked at you. "All right, Valeria, what's first?"

Valeria waved you both onward to a private changing room, offering complimentary sparkling waters, coffees, teas - even offering to go retrieve anything you two would want from the Starbucks down the block. Valeria took your measurements and dress size, making idle chit-chat with Bucky and making it obvious he was a regular in the store, then scurrying off to collect an armful of options.

"This is - wow," you nodded in impression, petting the material of the display dresses hung along the wall.

"Like it?"

"It's growing on me," you eased with a small shrug, hearing Bucky chuckle and for his phone to chime. You perused the place as he became glued to the little device, sat in front of the dressing rooms.

Valeria returned with another attendant carrying coffees. "Right this way, Mrs. Barnes," Valeria directed you into a changing room, missing the giddy look you sent Bucky over your shoulder at being called his wife. "All right, so," she sighed, hanging up the dresses she selected, "I think these are modest enough for a wedding, but still glamorous to turn a few heads."

You hummed, "They're kinda short, don't know if that's the energy I want to be giving off at my brother's wedding."

"They'll fit differently once on but we can always accommodate," she assured, pulling one from the hanger. "Here we go," she assisted you, zipping you in and looking you over. "Oh, it's just darling on you! Look at that, not a single hair outta place, right?"

You giggled lightly, "It's certainly pretty."

"Shall we show Mr. Barnes?"

You nodded, following her out to reveal Bucky sitting on a plush loveseat, sipping his coffee. His eyes widened when he saw you, nodding, "Oh, yeah. This is what I'm talking about."

"Hush, we're only buying one."

His eyes rolled, "I'll buy the whole damn store if I want."

"You don't own it already? Hm," you teased, perking your brows.

"Keep sayin' shit, I'll cut a check right now - "

"Bucky," you tisked, moving to the runway mirrors. "It's a little tight, isn't it?"

"It's snug," Valeria agreed. "Is there a color scheme for the wedding?"

"Um," you paused, "I'm not sure - I just know it's in winter, like, in a month."

"Maybe a pretty powder blue?" She looked to Bucky, who nodded. "Or how about a pale green? Like an olive tone?"

"She looks gorgeous in anything," Bucky smirked from behind you, taking another pull of his coffee.

"What about that brown number?" You asked, ignoring the way his compliments made you feel like the only girl he's ever seen in the world.

"You have a very good eye, Mrs. Barnes," Valeria nodded. She asked her coworker to go find your size, taking you back into the dressing room. You narrowed down the options without changing again, not wanting anything black or dark since it was a wedding and not a funeral. Though, you knew Bucky would disagree.

You showed your boyfriend a pretty little green dress, but he shook his head. "I thought the black was nice," he told you.

"I'm not wearing black to a wedding," you laughed lightly. "It screams bad luck to me, don't you think?"

"Think it's more of a statement, sayin' the entire event is a sham and they shouldn't be doing this," Bucky snickered, the other attendant, Laura, returning with a pretty brown dress. "That satin?" He asked, rubbing the material when it was presented to you both.

"It's very fashionable now," Laura nodded, "and it's not too dark."

"Since when is it a rule to not wear dark colors to a wedding? I miss the memo?" Buck leaned back to his seat.

All three women offered him a small look, you chuckling under your breath before Valeria was leading you back into the changing room. "If I may, Mrs?" She spoke softly, "I've known Mr. Barnes for a number of years but he's never brought anyone into the store. Then, one day, he tells me he needs a new suit because the 'girl of his dreams' had agreed to a date, and every time since then?" She smiled softly at you, "He's sang your praises. I'm very honored you're trusting me with helping you today."

"Oh," you blinked in shock, giggling nervously, "well, thank you very much, Valeria, now I know why his suits are always top of the line." She waved you off, making you add, "And for the record, I'm not Mrs. Barnes, guess that'd be his mother, wouldn't it?"

"Oh," her eyes widened, gasping softly, "oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't know, I just - he talks so highly about you - "

"No, it's okay, it's okay," you rushed, patting her arm. "I actually kind of like it..."

She hummed, zipping you into another dress, "You know, he's the reason my girl and I are together."

"Really? How'd that happen?"

Valeria chuckled, "He's very bold, your man. We were getting coffee one day, discussing his wardrobe for a business trip he had in Hong Kong, when my lady walked in. I went all silly and stupid, and Mr. Barnes just," she shook her head with a fond smile, "brazenly asked her out for me, in front of the whole shop."

"Oh, Jesus, yeah - sounds like him."

"Well, luckily, it worked, else I don't think he would've come back for my assistance. I was so embarrassed, you have no idea, but my lady - Charlie - thought it was charming and cute. Mr. Barnes hasn't let me live it down since. Says he demands an invite to the wedding." She met your eyes through the mirror, offering, "And I'd be really happy to give him a plus one, hmm?"

"You're so sweet," you whispered, turning to survey the dress. You spent the better part of three hours there, trying on dress after dress, nitpicking almost everything as you just weren't sure what to wear. Bucky wasn't much help, he just approved everything.

So, it was up to Valeria and Laura to help you; bringing out iPads and design books, trying to piece something together that best fit your comfort and the vibe of the wedding. You didn't want to look like a walking money bag since your family wasn't by any means wealthy, thinking it would be a slap to their faces since your boyfriend could spend his money without ever thinking about it. You didn't want to give your family any reason to talk behind your back.

"I like the brown satin," Laura offered softly, looking you over in the mirror. "But the blue is just wow, it really looks like it was made for you, doesn't it?"

"Yes, but I think the green compliments her eyes more," Valeria cocked her head in thought. "Are you wearing your hair up or down?"

"Up," you answered, trying to mimic the look by pulling your locks off your shoulders, "with thin jewelry, I think."

"Diamonds?"

"Pearls, if I can find a dress that looks nice with it," you smiled, seeing Bucky's reflection in the mirror watching you with a soft smile on his face; head titled in thought before his phone chimed again and warranted his attention. "Maybe we could try the pink dress?" You looked to the two women for an opinion.

"No," Valeria shook her head, "it washes you out. And pink in winter? Oh, sweetie, I'd lose my job if I let you leave here with that. Guess that means you'll have to come back in the spring, right?"

You grinned in response as Laura chimed in, "The green's actually really nice, but the brown looks much better with your body type." Then she turned to Bucky, prompting, "Mr. Barnes? Final decision - which dress?"

Bucky paused, musing, "Lemme see them all again, get one last taste. It's between the green and brown numbers?"

"Or the blue," Valeria nodded. "C'mon, sweetie," she offered her hand to help you off the wee runway you were perched on in front of the magnificent mirrors.

"You look sensational in them all, doll, how the hell am I supposed to choose just one?" Bucky teased, his canines on display from the broad grin that stretched his lips.

"You'll find a way," you answered.

"Awh, telling me Mr. Big-Tough-Manly-Business-Man who makes impossible decisions everyday can't choose a simple piece of fashion?" Valeria tacked on.

"You guys can't pick either!" He laughed, "And you do a helluva lot more shopping than I do!"

Laura, Valeria, and you paused to exchange looks, you pointing at Bucky and relenting in a drawl, "Touché."

When you were escorted back into the dressing room, Laura waiting outside the door for your privacy with Valeria, Bucky sat back on the plush loveseat and extended his one arm over the back of the seating. He smirked to himself, shaking his head as if in disbelief - but he was. Bucky was in disbelief.

How did a rugged Mob boss find himself here? Watching his girl like a private fashion show?

His whole life, all he knew was turmoil, pain, drama, and fear. He knew he would inherit his father's well-built organization after he passed and knew what this life would entail; having no preconceived notions about a quiet life. He knew he would have to be tougher than tough, adaptable, intelligent, and confident in his role as the head of the 3-6 Brooklyn Mob. Knowing the idea of a family was farfetched, knowing he'd never know the simple pleasures in life, that he would constantly be on the move - in-able to form real, sentimental, emotional connections. He knew, in this life, he'd remain alone for everyone's best interest and safety, indulging in a series of flings and one-off relationships that couldn't haunt him.

Yet they did. These encounters reminded Bucky how alone, how stranded, how isolated, how different he was. Instead of satisfying an unquenchable thirst, these fleeting partners became heavy anchors to Bucky's reality and reminded him that there was no such thing as love - nor was there any room or logic.

And then... He met you. Bucky's lips silently spread in a grin as he remembered meeting you at a bakery; purchasing the last slice of coconut cream pie to your absolute chagrin. He thought you were gorgeous, something ethereal and unobtainable; authentic, raw, and unfiltered - things his one night stands could never measure up to. So, he offered you the slice of pie if it meant giving him your number as currency.

After that, it was impossible for Bucky to consider ever being alone again because you were the sun; center of the universe that drew everyone into your orbit. He was smitten, content, excited to date you, turned on by the fact you had no idea who he was - a rare occurrence in the city. You were pure as fresh snow; sweet, kind, affectionate, attentive, and borderline overly empathetic.

Bucky knew he was in love with you after only a few weeks when he had shown up at your apartment, dripping in blood. You didn't panic like he feared you would, just checked up and down the hallway before yanking him into your home. You cleaned him up, tending to wounds, offering a safe space for him to relax in; making mindless conversation to help distract him from the pain he endured.

And now? Now, Bucky was sat in Dior, giving his opinion on your wedding guest dress; wondering how he allowed himself to get to this point of being domestic. Bucky wasn't a man to give his opinion on dresses, what color nail polish you should use, to send fresh bouquets of flowers every other week. Yet here he was, sipping too-expensive coffee, deciding between brown, green, and blue dresses that he never would've batted an eye at.

However, that was just the domino effect you caused in his life. You were sweeter than apple pie, becoming Bucky's one tether to reality that saved him from losing himself in this dark, criminal mindset he adopted. You didn't know it, but you had transformed Bucky from a brooding asshole into a boyfriend; someone you were proud to claim and never hid from - never shied away from. He admired the way you came to terms with his job, knowing it was a hard pill to swallow and yet noting the way you just accepted him as he was.

Bucky realized in that moment that he adored this new aspect of life after thinking it was impossible to obtain. He adored sitting here, offering opinions on dresses, his security left outside instead of hovering over him like a brutal reminder he was seedy. He loved having you to come home to, he loved being part of your mundane world - a person who went to weddings, who drank Starbucks, who asked her boyfriend his opinion about how she looked in dresses. Who thought bouquets of flowers were romantic, who baked him homemade cakes for his birthday, who worked overtime in order to afford his Christmas or birthday presents, who walked to the takeout place instead of paying for delivery.

All that you are, Bucky adored deeply; falling in love with you each and every single day. All he wanted to do was protect you, share his life with you, even pick out outfits for weddings you would attend. He knew if any of the men in his organization knew the extent of his affection, they'd surely weaponize it against him... Or at the very least, tease him relentlessly. Yet he never cared, knowing you wanted to be loved out loud instead of hidden away in a storage closet; but did care if it meant his enemies could use you to get to him. It was a risk, an occupation hazard for loved ones to become targets, but that only made Bucky so much more protective of you.

Laura glanced at Bucky and saw the fond smile soften to let his teeth trap his bottom lip, smiling at the Mob boss looking soft, content, smitten being there. She knew most boyfriends would never put this much effort into helping their girlfriends in the fashion department, thinking he must've been truly in love to look so at-ease. Plus his enthusiasm through the entire ordeal assured her that Bucky was genuinely enjoying himself.

Once again, you slipped into the blue dress and showed Bucky. He hummed and snapped a photo, asking you to turn this way and that. Then you tried the green dress, him taking another photo, and finally, you changed into the brown satin dress, facing Bucky for his final verdict.

Bucky hummed in contemplation, swiping through the photos. "You know what?" He asked, looking at you with a grin. "You look delectable in everything, I can't decide - so, let's just get them all."

"Bucky, no - "

"We'll take all three, Valeria, please," Bucky interrupted you.

You waited until the attendants left you alone with a knowing look shot in your direction to ring up the desired purchases, hip cocking and hands to your hips. With an underlying exasperation, you questioned, "What the hell, Buck?"

He grinned and stood, again, buttoning his suit jacket, "C'mon, princess, this is fun, right? Being spoiled?." His arms wrapped around your waist, looking down at you as if you hung the very sun that sucked him into your orbit. "What's the point of all my money if I can't spend it on you? Huh?"

"You can save it for a rainy day?"

He shrugged, "Not necessary."

"Maybe pay to send some underprivileged kids to go to college?"

"Well, there's a thought," your boyfriend mused, "but I already do that through the Stark Foundation. I sponsor a few scholarships."

"Okay, well, buying all three still doesn't help me decide what to wear," you chuckled, you mimicked his action and wrapped your arms tightly around the base of his ribs. Due to his height, your head had to tip backwards to meet his eyes with a small smile.

You could look at this gorgeous man all day, everyday if God ever permitted such an act. Why wasn't dating a paid activity? You'd be the top earner with the way you were absolutely enthralled with all Bucky Barnes was. And what an honor it was to earn his mutual adoration.

"We'll figure it out at home. Gotta get you moving in the material to make an honest judgement," he offered softly. "But you look gorgeous in all of them, baby, seriously. Like, drop dead gorgeous that makes every girl brim with jealousy. Shit, doll, you're gonna run the risk of outshining the bride."

You sighed, "Look, Buck, I appreciate what you're doing, but three designer dresses? Where the hell am I ever gonna wear them? What kinda event calls for overpriced fashion statements?"

Buck eased with a soft expression, "Guess I'll just have to take you out so you can put them all to good use, huh?"

"That's not a solution!"

"Is to me," he let a hand drift to roughly palm the meat of your ass cheek over the brown satin; another symptom of him being whipped, his comfort over public displays of affection. "Seriously, doll, how the hell did I get so lucky?"

"Hmm?"

"Just look at you, my girl," he chuckled lightly, "radiant in anything you put on. It's almost unfair, makes me wonder what I did so right to have someone like you I can call my own. I can't wait to show you off in those dresses, just look so Goddamn tantalizing. I mean, damn, baby, I'm gonna have to fight off men with my gun and the jealous women with a stick."

"You do realize we're already dating, you don't have to lay it on so thick."

"And you do realize being with you makes me the luckiest bastard in the city, right? Least I can do is spoil you, I've already got everything else I've ever wanted."

Your heart swelled at his words, sighing gently as your chin rested on his chest to keep your head tilted. Softly, you admitted, "I don't think you're the lucky one, pretty sure the honor's mine. I couldn't ask for anything more in a man - in a partner. I'm so fucking in love with you, Bucky, it honestly doesn't make sense."

He nodded, asking, "Know what else doesn't make sense?"

"What's that?"

"You refusing those dresses, I mean, c'mon!" He laughed, you groaning and releasing your hold; making his tighten to prevent you from escaping. "Those dresses look phenomenal on you, you really gonna reject my gift? C'mon, you know the rules, doll, if you adore her, you Dior her." You were ready to retort, but Bucky smiled, "For the record, I think you should wear the blue dress to the wedding."

"Blue it is," you smiled, lifting onto your toes and hooking a hand around the back of his neck to meet his lips in a scratchy kiss. "Thank you so much, baby," you whispered, feeling his lips spread against yours before he brought you back in for a much-more passionate kiss. "Hm!" You hummed, pulling away to scold, "But no more, all right? You spend too much money on me - I mean, who the hell needs three designer dresses?"

"You do," he whispered, "you deserve all of this, sugar, and I'll do what I can t'spoil you the way you should be. Might as well get used to it, I got no plans on stopping."

Your eyes rolled in good faith, excusing yourself, "Yeah, yeah, all right. Lemme get changed and we can - "

"Nah," he shook his head, petting the skin of your back exposed from the brown satin dress with his fingertips, "know what? Stay in the dress, I wanna take you out and show you off."

Your lips found his in a breath-sucking kiss, trying to convey your appreciation and giddiness over never having been spoiled like this in your entire life - feeling grateful, refreshed, and privileged for a man like Bucky in your life. Whatever greater force there was in this world, you thanked repeatedly for choosing you to love this man and for this man to love you. There was no telling what you did to deserve him, but blessed be those heavenly powers.

requesting rules and masterlist

MCU masterlist

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Astronaut!Bucky comes home.

// Pairing // Astronaut!Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader

// Summary // Bucky coming home after a long space mission and the first thing he is doing with you - breaking the bed.

// Warnings // 18+, Minors DNI, smut, beefy Bucky, needy Bucky, unprotected p in v

// Request // From our horny convo🤭🤭 Imagine an Astronaut!Bucky Barnes coming home after a long space mission and the first thing he does when he comes home is break your bed as he fucks you, because he’s been deprived of your touch for so long.😩😩😩 @amathslutsguidetofandom

// Authors Note // Thank you for the request, I thought I will write it as headcanon. Hope you like it.

// Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist //

Bucky was on a space mission for half a year now, only calling and messages where possible - no sex chat, no sex at all

After so long he is touched starved, he needs you, he needs his girl

His cock is pressing painfully against his tight pants since he made his way home, knowing that he can just grab you and rail you into the matress until your bed breaks

You're already waiting for him, ready to cook whatever dinner he wants, cuddle with him all day but thats not what your oyfriend has in mind

Bucky almost breaks the door down when he opens it, only shrugging his jacket off, placing his stuff in the floor and immediately making his way toward you

Without any words he grasps you by your wasit, lifting you and walking into the bedroom with you

"Missed you too, Buck," you giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck

He doesn't answer you, jsut throwing you on the bed before he strips out of his clothes

You narrow your eyebrows, trying to make him talk but he only rips the clothes off your body as well before he lays on top of you, his leaking cock between your thighs and ready to fuck you

"Buck!" You almost shout, when he thrusts his hips against yours, his cock sliding though your folds, causing you to want more - to have Bucky inside of you

With one smooth movement he pushes into you, enjoying the soft moans and whines that leave your lips when he fucks hard into you

Your fingers scratching along his back, leaving red marks all over his soft skin

His cock hitting all the right spots and as much as he wants to come, he doesn't want this moment to end that fast

You pussy is gripping him tightly, soft whimpers and groans leave his lips whenever you squeeze his cock

The bed is cracking and hitting the wall with every harsh trust of your beefy boyfriend but he couldn't care less about it

Bucky wants to break the bed, he wants you to come all around his cock and he wants to have his cock buried deep inside of you after he came at least four times inside of you

And thats what he does, fucking one after another orgasm out of you until he comes inside of you with a last deep thrust, cuasing both of you to moan and come while he bed breaks down ans the trow of you land with the matress on the ground

"Now we need a new bed, Buck," you chuckle, running your fingers through his soft, sweety, brown hair

"We can buy it together and break it again, but first, I'm really hungry," he mumbles, earing a soft slap against his shoulder

Bucky presses his lips softly against yours, smirking at you while he still moves his sofetning cock inside of you to tease you a bit

"You wanted to make food, I dont mind that," he mumbles against your lips, his ocean blue eyes staring into yours. "I will help you with the food."

// Taglist // @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @pono-pura-vida @somnorvos @meowmeowyoongles @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @loki-laufeyson68 @winterschildren8 @bxtchboy69 @jeremyrennermakesmesmile @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @nervouseden @jiyascepter @princesscore-angel @mrs-katelyn-barnes @sasha-writing @blackhawkfanatic @fanfictionreaderfan @multiversefanfics @angelbabyyy99 @looking1016 @aphrodite-xoxo

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Bucky is the heir to a large mafia empire. He’s worked his way through the ranks and has accumulated a significant amount of financial wealth in the process. His childhood best friend (whom he’s had a crush on for years on end) from his (their shared) humble beginnings never lets him spoil her in any capacity, no matter how much he tries to explain that it doesn’t truly make a dent in his fortune.

Bucky hires a bodyguard for her, and it takes her a while to catch onto it. When she does, she’s livid. How dare he insinuate that she can’t protect and defend herself?

He explains that he’s not protecting her, he’s protecting his biggest weakness.

She’s not weak, how could she be a weakness to him?

His enemies know that there is absolutely nothing that he wouldn’t do for her. Again, she’s not a weakness, she’s not a weak person— she’s Bucky’s weakness, and not how she thinks.

She accepts his reasoning (begrudgingly) and facetiously asks him if he wants to get married so they can’t be forced to testify against each other in court.

He says “yes” so quickly that she finally realizes that her feelings have been reciprocated the entire time.

Mob!AU with a childhood best friends-to-lovers appetizer and an idiots-to-lovers side dish (yum 😏)

Protect Myself » Bucky Barnes (AU)

Pairings: Mafia Boss/Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Best Friend!Female Reader

Summary: You get mad when you find out bucky has hired a bodyguard to help protect you. You make it very clear to him that you can protect yourself. The conversation takes an interesting and unexpected turn.

Warnings: Fluff, language, Best Friends to Lovers/Idiots In Love, Bucky is a big softie in this, kissing, pet names

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anonymous person who requested this🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creator.

You stormed into Bucky’s mansion full of angry without knocking. You were stopped by one of his security guards.

“Ma’am.” The security guard stepped in front of you, stopping you in your tracks. “You need an appointment to see Mr. Barnes.” He tells you.

“I don’t need an appointment to see my own best friend.” You say.

You tried to walk past him, but he stopped you by grabbing your arm.

“Get your fucking hands off of me!” You say loudly.

Bucky heard the sound of your voice from his office all the way upstairs. He stood up from his desk and walked out of his office. He went downstairs to see you with his security guard’s hand on you.

“Take your hands off of her.” Bucky demands to his security guard.

“Sir, she-” His security guard stopped talking when he seen a look on Bucky’s face that he knows all too well.

His security guard let go of you. You glared at him before walking past him to get to Bucky.

“Go upstairs to my bedroom and I’ll be there in a minute.” Bucky says.

You nodded and went to his bedroom. Bucky looked at his security guard.

“Y/N is welcome here anytime.” He tells him. “And never, I mean never, put your hands on her again or you’re fired. Do you understand?” He says.

“I understand, sir. It won’t happen again.” The security guard says.

Bucky told him to go back to work before going upstairs to his bedroom where you are. He closed the door behind him.

“Sit down.” You demanded, pointing at the bed.

Bucky didn’t say a word and sat down on his bed.

“You and I have been best friends for years and I want to know what was going through your mind when you hired a bodyguard for me.” You say.

“To protect you.” He simply says.

“I can protect myself, James.” You say.

Bucky knows you can protect yourself. He didn’t hire the bodyguard to protect you. Well, he did, but he did it for a different reason.

“I know you can protect yourself.” He says.

“Then explains why you hired a bodyguard for me.” You say, crossing your arms over your chest.

“For a weakness.” He says.

“What weakness?” You asked. “I’m not weak.” You say.

You’re the strongest woman bucky knows. He knows you’re not weak.

“My weakness.” He said. “You’re my weakness.” He says.

“What?” You asked.

“You’re my weakness.” He repeats. “I have a lot of enemies and I don’t want anything to happen to you.” He explains.

Now you feel bad for yelling and throwing accusations at him. Bucky was always protective of you, even as kids. You should’ve know that right away, but didn’t think about it.

“If one of them got their hands on you somehow, I would be out for blood.” He says.

There it is… his soft side. Bucky is only a softie for you. He may be a big badass mafia boss to everyone, but deep down he’s just a big softie who has a crush on his best friend who he’s known all of his life.

“What are you trying to say, Bucky?” You asked.

“I love you.” Bucky blurted out. “That’s why I hired a bodyguard for you.” He says.

Your eyes went wide in surprise. James Buchanan Barnes, your best friend and a badass mafia boss, is in love with you.

“So…” You mused at the thought in your head for a moment. “Do you want to get married?” You asked facetiously.

“Yes.” Bucky answers too fast.

You opened your mouth and then closed it. You didn’t expect Bucky to say yes that fast.

Bucky reaches over to his nightstand and opened the drawer, grabbing a small velvet box. Your eyes went wide again and your mouth fell open, already knowing what’s in that small box.

“Question is…” Bucky got down on one knee and opened the small velvet box, revealing the most beautiful diamond ring you’ve ever seen. “Do you want to get married?” He asks.

You were speechless. You didn’t know what to say. What you do know is that you would be lying if you said you didn’t love him.

“Bucky, I-” You were too speechless to say anything. “What about our friendship?” You asked.

“That’s the beauty of marriage, sweetheart. We’ll still be best friends no matter what.” He says with a smile.

You stared at the diamond ring for a moment longer before answering his question.

“Yes!” You finally answered. “I’ll marry you.” You say with a smile.

Bucky smiles widely and put the ring on your ring finger. He stood up straight and kissed you passionately.

“I get to choose our honeymoon destination.” You say against his lips.

“I’m completely fine with that as long as I’m with you.” He says, kissing you again.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[jiyascepter]

The Tattoo | 18+ Only

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Rockstar!Bucky x Fem!Tattoo Artist!Reader

Words: 3820

Summary: Bucky, the charismatic and wildly popular rock performer of America, asks for a tattoo from you in a rather..."unconventional" place 👀

Warnings/Content: Smut; Use of "Y/n", Lightly drunk Bucky & Steve, shy/nervous reader, cursing, mention of tattoo needles (no tattoo making scene!), cocky & teasy bucky, mention of getting tattoo on dick, bucky smokes a bit, bucky has piercings and tattoos on his body, semi-public, m!masturbation, handjob, blowjob, kissing, biting, licking, nipple licking (both male and female receiving!), acliteration, riding, praising, nicknames, begging, missionary, softdom vibes from bucky ;) lmk if i missed anything!

A/n: my first bucky fic!! i hope you all like it 𖹭 also there's a lil pun in the last line if u see it which i wanted to add for no reason || also thank you @buckys-wintersoldier & @vbecker10 for motivating my lazy ass to finish this fic, bucky is sending kisses your way <3

The hum of the tattoo machine had just died down as you began cleaning up your shop for the night, the last customer thanking you for the beautiful work you did on her arm.

The familiar scent of ink and disinfectant mingled in the air, grounding you after a long day of work.

The night was winding down, and you were just about ready to call it a day when you heard the sound of a powerful engine gliding down to the dirt road, roaring in the quiet of the small town nestled in the heart of South America, reminiscent of a Midwest American town but infused with a distinctive Latin flavour.

You walk over to your window, which was painted with bold texts of “TATTOO” in different fonts and colours all over, but there was still space to peek at what was happening outside.

The car's rich wine paint gleamed under the moonlight and came to a halt just outside the porch of your shop.

Dust swirled in its wake, kicked up from the gravel road, the familiar vintage Mustang came to a halt just outside the pavement of your shop.

The doors opened from both sides and silhouettes of two men momentarily outlined against the street lights as they got out of the car and you immediately recognized who they were.

James “Bucky” Barnes. The popular, deliciously sexy rockstar of America. Lead vocalist and sometimes drummer of his band.

For over a year he had been your regular customer, gotten about five tattoos on his amazing body from you, secretly away from the eyes of the paparazzi.

He used to drive from the city to your little tattoo shop settled in the small town, just to get a tattoo from you because of the popular reviews about your talented and clean tattoo skills.

Despite his fame and money, he wanted his tattoos from an “authentic” tattoo shop situated in the Midwest.

You had always had a crush on him, even before he became your customer, used to seeing him go all crazy on the stage.

And oh he looked so hot doing that.

He was with his friend and guitarist of the band, Steve Rogers today and your breathing hitched when you saw them both get out of the car just outside your shop.

You were used to him visiting usually during the early mornings, but it was the first time he drove in this late.

The sound of Bucky's laughter, mixed with the boisterous voice of his guitarist Steve Rogers, drifted through the shop's glass window.

They staggered, arms over each other’s shoulders as they giggled over what you could not figure, but it was something stupid for sure.

Were they…drunk?

Not wanting them to see you peeping at them like a nosy neighbour, you quickly pulled back from the window and pretended to be back to cleaning your equipment.

The faint chime of the customer bell was heard when they both entered, a light drunken grin on both of their faces.

“There’s my favourite tattoo maker.” Bucky spoke in a deep rumble that made your stomach roll.

You turned and looked at him with a smile on your face. “Mr. James! It’s been so long since you..last visited...” You cringed at how excited you sounded in the beginning.

“Yeah it’s been a whi…oh come here…” He slurred and pulled you in a hug, surprising you with it, your face meeting the hard muscles of his chest. You blushed a little and Steve grinned at the sight.

Maybe it was the drink, because you two had never hugged. You had always tried to maintain yourself in front of him enough to not let him know that you had a massive crush on him.

You try to calm yourself when he pulls away, hating how you were always nervous around him. You looked up at him, then Steve and said with a nervous chuckle, “Uhm…What are you two doing here at this hour anyway?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Oh, he needs a tattoo.” Steve says eagerly.

You sighed, shaking your head. “Sorry, Mr. James, I can't give you a tattoo when you're drunk.”

“I'm not drunk,” Bucky insisted and Steve agreed.

You could smell the alcohol on his breath and gave him a sceptical look. “I can smell it right from your breath, Mr James.”

He reached out and took your hand, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. "Y/n, please. I'm not drunk, and I need to do this." He put extra emphasis on the word "need," his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your knees weak.

Damn those blue eyes.

You sighed, feeling the familiar flutter of nerves in your stomach. "Al-Alright…but if you regret it tomorrow-”

“-he won’t, that's a promise. Besides, we’re still in our senses.” Steve says, patting Bucky’s back.

You smiled and agreed.

“Okay then, I’ll get going for a drink while he gets inked.” Steve says, asking the routes of the nearby local bar from you.

Once he left, you looked at Bucky and politely asked him to take a seat on the tattoo bench. “So, where are you planning to get the tattoo?”

He smirked and took a seat on the tattoo bench, taking off his dark leather jacket and keeping it aside. “I was thinking if you could give me a tattoo on my, well, let's just say it's a bit unconventional.”

You look at him sceptically, “where do yo-” it took a moment for you to realise what he was implying. When it clicked, your eyes widened, and a blush crept up your cheeks. "You mean…?"

“Yup,” he confirmed, enjoying your reaction. “On my cock.”

“It's a dare by Steve,” he added with a chuckle.

Ah, so that’s why Steve was so eager.

Oh god, you think. You had tattooed his inviting arms, irresistible abs, and even his thighs (only god knew the struggle you endured to control yourself that time), but you had never imagined giving him one on his most precious body part. Your heart hammered in your chest.

You had tattooed plenty of people in intimate areas before, but this was Bucky Barnes. THE Bucky Barnes. Your secret crush, the rockstar you had always fantasised about. And now he was standing in your shop, asking you to tattoo his most private area.

“I, uh, okay,” you managed to say, your voice shaking slightly. “But you’ll need to… you know, get it…hard.”

He grinned. “That will not be a problem, sweetheart,” he says in a flirty manner.

Ugh, why was he like this? If this man never flirted with you, acted like a stereotypical asshole celebrity, maybe you would have lost interest in him and would not have been stuttering and blushing for no reason. But he was always so sweet and so direct with his words.

“T-then you can lay down and get comfortable…I’ll…get the things ready…” you instructed, trying to sound like this was just another Thursday for you, and it was, but not when it’s HIM.

You turned your back to him, gathering your supplies and trying to calm your racing heart. You positioned your seat so you couldn’t see him while he worked himself up, but you could hear every little noise he made.

After a slight rustling of his clothing, the dark denim jeans– the creaking of the tattoo bench when he laid down, you knew the rock singer was absolutely naked behind you.

In no time you could hear his soft groans that sent shivers down your spine. You fought the urge to take a quick glimpse.

“No, no, no, this is so wrong,” you muttered to yourself. You try to busy yourself cleaning the needles, but the way he was making those sounds made it really hard to concentrate.

Bucky, leaned back on the tattoo bench, the cool air of the shop brushing against his skin as he worked himself up. He tried to imagine all the girls he’d ever fucked, but the setting was not quite adding up.

A playful smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he watched you busy yourself with the supplies. His keen blue eyes took in every detail of your nervous movements, the way your hands trembled slightly as you gathered the ink and needles.

He could sense your flustered state, the barely contained excitement in your voice, and the way your cheeks had flushed a deep pink when you realised what he wanted.

He smirked to himself, he loved seeing you flustered, the way your voice hitched when you spoke to him. It was endearing.

As he lay there, waiting for himself to get fully hard, he couldn’t help but think about how much he enjoyed teasing you.

He loved the way your cheeks flushed when he called you sweetheart, the way your eyes darted away when he caught you staring at his body.

He had suspected for a while that you had a crush on him, and the thought had crossed his mind more than once: what would it be like if he made a move? Tonight, with the alcohol loosening his inhibitions, he decided to push the boundaries a little more.

“Y/n…?” His voice broke the chain of your sexy thoughts.

“Mhm…?” You responded, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Do you wanna take a look, sweetheart?” he teased.

Your face burned with embarrassment.

Did he figure you out? That you were thirsting over his undoubtedly beautiful co– now was not the time.

“N-no,” you stammered, heart hammering in your chest.

He lets out a deep chuckle. “No? But you gotta look to draw on me.”

“Oh so you’re- are you ready, Mr James?” You say, deeply breathing to calm your nerves.

“I think I am, yes.”

You turned around slowly, your eyes widening at the sight of him lying there, fully exposed below, just his shirt on. You swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure as you wore your silicone gloves and approached him with the rest of your supplies.

You tried to calm yourself. Maybe this would not be so tough if you didn’t think too much. You looked at his cock, your breathing hitched.

“Mr James…this…isn’t hard enough.” You say, cringing at your words.

He grins to himself. “Not hard enough huh?”

You nod shyly trying not to look at his cock again. “It needs to be fully erect…or the tattoo wouldn’t look good.”

He shifted a bit towards your side in his bench and said in a low tone, “How about you help me sweetheart?”

“H-help?” You reply, your voice trembling slightly.

Bucky’s eyes twinkled with perversity as he smirked at you. “I wouldn’t mind an…extra help.”

You shook your head, trying to resist the pull of his charm. “I really shouldn’t,” you insisted, but your resolve was weakening under his intense gaze.

Bucky leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear as he spoke. “Just a little assistance,” he murmured, his lips almost brushing against your skin, “from my sweet tattoo artist.”

You bit your lip, the temptation becoming too strong to resist. With a shaky breath, you nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. “Let’s get this over with, it’s…it’s getting late already…”

And with an unsteady hand you wrapped your hand around his needy member.

“Fuck,” Bucky hissed, nearly pushing his hips forward for you. You started stroking his semi-hard length, staring at it and then his face for the reaction. And oh, was he enjoying it. He was enjoying it too much.

“T-the gloves…” He almost whispered, gesturing to your silicone gloves you were wearing. “Take ‘em off…”

In no time you almost made it your goal to please him, taking off your gloves and gripping his cock tighter and brushing it up and down with your soft, bare hand.

You touched his red tip with your thumb, and noticed how it glistened with pre-cum at your touch.

“Fuck, you’re so good at this,” he whimpered, gripping the leather bench tightly with both of his hands. You looked at him and murmured with a shy grin, “I’m a tattoo artist, what did you expect?” He grinned at your answer, “such…skilled hands…baby, you’re a handful.”

You squeezed the base of his thick cock, and he let out the sexiest moan you must’ve heard from a man.

You watched as Bucky's face contorted with pleasure, your hand moving up and down his length, feeling the smooth, hot skin beneath your fingers.

Bucky’s voice ringed in your ears again, “Y/n,” he said low and husky, “take a lick, sweetheart.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, your body responding to his request before your mind could catch up.

You leaned down, your breath warm against his skin, and flicked your tongue across his tip, tasting the salty pre-cum. His reaction was immediate, a sharp intake of breath followed by a deep, guttural moan.

“Fuck, I knew you wanted it,” he whispered, his hands clenching the edges of the leather cushion. You gripped the base of his cock, holding it while your other hand massaged his balls.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he murmured. Encouraged by his response, you took him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head before taking him deeper. He groaned louder, his hips bucking slightly as you sucked him, your hand still working his base.

Bucky's hand—adorned with several metal rings—found its way to your hair, gently guiding your movements as you bobbed your head up and down. "Just like that, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice strained with pleasure. "You like my cock, don’t you?"

“Mhm…” you hummed, releasing his cock from your mouth and putting it in again. You felt a surge of pride at his words, your arousal growing with each passing second.

You hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper into your mouth, feeling him swell and harden further. His moans grew louder, more desperate, and you knew he was getting close.

Before he could finish, you cooed in your sweetest voice, “Mr. James, I need you inside me.”

Bucky's eyes darkened with lust at your whispered request, a predatory smirk playing on his lips. “Cutie wants that huh?”

Without waiting for a response, he leaned forward and captured your lips in a heated kiss, his tongue immediately delving into your mouth.

The kiss was hungry, passionate, his hands roaming your body with an urgency that made your head spin.

His hands surrounded your waist, grabbing hold of the hem of your top and lifted it up from your body and kissed you hungrily again. He discarded it carelessly, his hands immediately finding your breasts, kneading them through your bra.

“Aren’t you a sexy thing,” he growled against your lips, his fingers expertly unclasping your bra and tossing it aside. He pulled you closer and you lifted your knee up on the bench between his legs.

His mouth descended to your breasts, sucking and nibbling on your nipples, making you moan and arch your back, pressing yourself against him.

He swirled his tongue over and over your aching nipples, his hands working their way to pull off your jeans. Your hands grabbed hold of his shirt almost needily, lifting it off of him to reveal his sexy, tattooed body with abs as if daring you to take a lick.

“I need you, Mr Ja-” he kisses you again, shutting you up. “It’s Bucky for you.”

His words made your cheeks go red as you nodded.

He grinned at your flushed face, his big hands roaming to your back and down while his tongue found its place back on your nipples. His hands undo your jeans, pulling them down to reveal your panties.

He pulled away from your nipples and pulled both of your knees on the tattoo bench, holding your butt while he pressed kisses on your belly. He squeezed your bottom before pulling your panties off too, leaning down and placing a kiss on your mound.

“You wanna ride me, babygirl?” He asked breathlessly. You nodded almost greedily at the idea.

His hand slides gently around the back of your neck, his touch firm yet tender. With a subtle tug, he pulled you closer, and his lips met yours in a needy kiss.

He lifted you effortlessly onto the tattoo bench, positioning you so that you were straddling him. His cock was hard and ready, pressing insistently against your wet entrance.

You moaned as you felt him against you, your body aching with need.

“So needy aren’t you, baby?” He grinned, slowly sliding his member against your wet clit. “All wet and ready for me…I’m already leaking cum at the sight of you.”

“Bucky please…” You whimpered, not able to take the tension aching between your legs.

He smirked and licked his thumb (oh what a sight!) and softly grazed it against your nipples. His cold metal ring on the thumb only added to your pleasure. You softly gasped, the need building from the friction of his cock and this wasn’t helping at all.

He chuckled in a low voice, “you’re so cute,” looking at your reactions and how you tried to not melt on him then and there.

“Please,” you breathed, “I need your cock inside me.”

“Stop driving me crazy,” he says, biting his lower lip and sitting up to meet your face, his slicked member pressing against your bud.

He pressed kisses against your jaw, moving down to lick your neck and gave you a bite.

“You’re getting so shameless aren’t you?” He murmured against your skin, his tongue swirling over the spot on your delicate neck. “First you can’t even look at my face properly, and now you’re begging for my cock like a slut?”

You dived your finger in his dark hair, gripping it while he made you crazier with his lips and teeth on your neck.

“Fuck me.” You breathed.

He pulled away and licked his lips, looking at your face. “Poor baby,” he whispered and leaned against the tattoo bench comfortably, positioning himself against your entrance properly.

With a groan, he thrusted up into you, filling you completely in one swift motion. You cried out as he stretched you, the sensation overwhelming and intoxicating.

He paused for a moment, letting you adjust to the feeling of him inside you, his hands moving to your waist to guide your movements.

"Ride me, baby," he commanded, his voice rough with desire. "Show me how much you want me."

You began to move, slowly at first, lifting yourself up and down on his cock, feeling the delicious friction as he filled you over and over again. His big and hard member stretched your insides while you moaned helplessly.

“Fuck– so hot,” he murmured with a little drunken grin on his face.

His hands gripped your hips, helping to guide your movements, urging you to go faster, harder. You obliged, your pace quickening, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as the pleasure built inside you.

Bucky's hands slid up your back, pulling you down so your bodies were pressed tightly together. You moved down to lay against his hard chest, while his hand gripped your arms behind your back while he started jerking his hips with a smooth motion.

You licked his nipple, your tongue encircling his piercing and taking it between your teeth, pulling at it. Bucky’s face skewed into pleasure and surprise.

Surely he wasn’t expecting that move from someone as you.

“Damn– are you tryna eat me up today or somethin’?” He says, loving the sight of you.

You grinned against him and pressed kisses against his chest while he started to thrust into you faster. He kissed you hungrily, his tongue exploring your mouth as he thrust up into you with a renewed intensity. The new angle sent jolts of pleasure through your body, your moans muffled by his kiss.

You could feel the pressure building inside you, the tension coiling tighter and tighter with each thrust.

You sit back on him, riding him out, getting him and his cock all wet in your fluids. He gripped your arms tighter, hitting the perfect spot inside you when he started to fuck you almost mercilessly.

Your walls clenched around him.

He picked you up, his cock still throbbing inside you while he got up from the tattoo bench and laid your back on it. The cool leather against your back sent shivers down your spine, contrasting with the heat radiating from your body.

His eyes, dark with lust, locked onto yours as he leaned down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

“God, you're so tight,” he groaned, his voice thick with pleasure. Each thrust grew more powerful, more intense, as he pounded into you.

You couldn't take your eyes off his chest, mesmerised by the way his piercings shook with every movement, adding to the intoxicating sight.

His neck muscles stretched and tensed, enhancing the raw, primal allure of his powerful body moving against yours.

You could feel the tattoo bench creaking beneath you, but all you could focus on was the incredible sensation of him inside you, the way he seemed to fit perfectly.

"Bucky," you gasped, "I'm so close."

His response was a low, guttural growl. "Come for me, baby," he commanded, his hips snapping forward with a force that made stars dance behind your eyelids. "I want to feel you come around my cock."

His words pushed you over the edge, and with a cry of his name, your orgasm crashed over you, your body convulsing with pleasure.

Your walls tightened around him, and you could feel him throbbing inside you, his movements becoming erratic as he chased his own release.

You looked so pretty when you were drunk on him.

"Fuck, Y/n," he groaned, his grip on your hips tightening as he drove into you one last time, his own climax hitting hard before he pulled out and released himself all over your pussy.

He rubbed his tip against your messy clit, the sensitivity of it making you moan and whimper.

You could feel the mix of your fluids dripping from you, while you panted and just laid on the tattoo bench trying to catch your breath.

He grinned at the sight of you, then began to pull his clothes back on, still watching you with a satisfied smirk as you tried to regain your strength and catch your breath.

Once dressed, he leaned down to your face, “I knew you’d be incredible, my sweet tattoo artist.” The nickname jolted you back to the reason he was here in the first place.

“Bucky, I–” He shushed you, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

His eyes lingered on your exposed breasts as he smirked, “I’ll come again for the tattoo tomorrow,” he said, leaving the shop with a chime of the door, lighting up a cigarette.

┈➤ Bucky Taglist in the comments! Lmk if you want to join or just click this 𖹭 Thx for reading !

[marvel-lous-guy]

Peter: Hey Mr Barnes! I got this knife for you

Bucky: Oh, thanks, kid

Peter: it's a real nice one- extra fresh!

Bucky: ...How can a knife be fresh?

Peter: I just pulled it out my leg about a half hour ago

Bucky: *drops knife*

[buckets-and-trees]

What You Want

Characters/Pairings: lawyer!Bucky x curvy!female assistant reader Word Count: 2.7k Summary: Your boss, powerful lawyer Bucky Barnes, insisted he needed his indispensable assistant to accompany him on his trip to Norway. He also promised he would have you home in time for Christmas, but the weather decided to strike its wrath and decimate international travel, leaving you stranded for a few more days.

Content Warnings: modern AU, slight power dynamic, periphery/secular reference to the Christmas holiday, vaginal fingering, use of "plum" as a term of endearment

Logistical Notes: Written for @sstan-hoe Vee's Holly Jolly Challenge - I was given a selection of prompts including "That noise...keep making it," reindeer, and lawyer/assistant power dynamics. Also my December entry for @buckybarnesevents Build-a-Bucky-Bingo using the FLASHBACKS prompt. Divider by @saradika.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You heard the door open and close behind you and then familiar footsteps approaching, but you didn’t turn to look, instead keeping your eyes on the beauty of the frozen wilderness on display before you.

“Peace offering?” Bucky spoke as he stepped up beside you at the rail of the balcony, holding one of two steaming mugs in his hands toward you.

You sighed but gave him a small smile and took the mug. “You don’t need to apologize. You’re a very powerful man, Bucky, but I’m relatively sure you don’t control the weather.”

“Not yet, but I’m trying to pull some strings,” he said with a smirk, and you smiled.

“It’s not your fault we can’t get a flight back to the States when a blizzard has taken out half the Eastern Seaboard.”

It was unlikely that even with all of James Buchanan Barnes’ considerable lawyering power and money that he would be able to get you back home before Christmas. The main international airports in New England would have to live through the record raging blizzard, dig out, and then there would be hundreds of thousands of passengers to accommodate in and out of the country. Reasonably your guess was that you wouldn’t be returning until as early as the day after Christmas at the earliest.

“I should still apologize though. I said I would have you home for Christmas.”

You took a sip of the hot coffee. “You should apologize, but you’re not.”

He smiled. “No, I’m not.”

He turned and looked out over the forest and frozen tundra with you, the snow sparkling by the moonlight. This side of the resort hotel Bucky had booked the two of you into looked out over the wilderness.

“How long are you going to stay out here?”

“Until I see a reindeer. You brought me to Norway in December. I want to see a wild reindeer.”

“Fair enough.”

After a few more minutes, Bucky spoke again. “Are you sure you don’t want to eat, though? They said our accommodations should be ready after dinner.”

It had been a bit of a feat to find any place this close to Christmas that wasn’t closed or completely booked, but Bucky had managed to find this place that although they said they didn’t have a place immediately available, they had late check outs that just needed to be cleaned and refreshed for new guests.

“It’s a very fine restaurant.”

“Alright, let’s go eat.”

“If that will be all for the evening, I’ll be happy to escort you to your suite, Mr. Barnes,” the maître d’ said. He had been attentive all evening, but being with Bucky on this business trip you had quickly learned only the most excellent service was a common thing for him.

“Yes, thank you, I think we’re finished,” Bucky replied, looking to you, and you nodded. You both scooted your chairs back from the table and then followed the man out of the restaurant, through the hotel lobby, past the bar, past the observatory lounge and balcony you’d visited earlier, and to a pair of elevators.

Dinner had been quiet, but not an uneasy quiet by any means for the two of you. Bucky was an intimidating man, power emanating from him very naturally, but after the first few weeks as his assistant, you had gotten over your nerves. After sitting with him through many lunches, plenty of meetings, taking notes from him on cases and projects, and a fair few late nights, you had grown comfortable around him, learned that he could be easy to talk to, but didn’t strive to fill a silence for conversation’s sake, something you appreciated.

The hotel Bucky had found was an upscale, moderately sized wilderness and ski lodge. When you arrived on the fifth and top floor, there was a cozy hallway that only boasted three doors, and you were led to the one at the very end, where the man unlocked the door, stepped in to hold it open, and then handed the key to Bucky.

“If you should need anything at all, simply pick up the phone and our staff will assist you,” he said. “Have a good evening, and we hope you enjoy your stay, even though we know it was unexpected for the holiday.”

“Thank you, dinner was fantastic, and the place looks wonderful, you’ve been great, Lucas. Have a good night,” Bucky said, and pressed what you were sure was a generous tip into the man’s hand.

All your and Bucky’s things had been left neatly to one side of the entry of the suite. A quick look around revealed that there were two rooms off either side of the spacious sitting area as well as a small kitchen and bar, and on the far side full floor to ceiling windows and a balcony. You had hoped for two rooms like you’d had at the previous hotel, but two rooms in a suite would be perfectly fine, especially since the stunning view out of the sitting room’s windows wasn’t the only beauty in the place. There was a fireplace with a gorgeous mantle with a roaring fire already ablaze and a stunning Christmas tree with gorgeous trimmings in the Scandinavian style.

“It’ll do, yes?” Bucky asked, watching you take in the beauty of the tree.

You smiled warmly at him, then looked back at the tree. “Yes, it’ll do just fine.” The sitting room was spacious and rivaled your cozy studio apartment back home for size. You stepped further into the suite. “Do you want to take a look at the rooms and pick which one you want?” you asked. All the trip was on the company’s expense account, and as his assistant, although you suspected he might be a gentleman and offer you the better room, you would defer to Bucky to actually pick.

“We’ll share whichever one is better,” he said with a shrug.

You scoffed. “No, there are two rooms in this gorgeous suite, I’m sure they’re both fantastic, I don’t mind taking the one you don’t want. Might even sleep on the couch so I can stay by the tree and look out those windows all night.”

He chuckled, low, and suddenly at your back. “You misunderstand me, plum,” he said, placing his hands on the curve of your hips and pressing his chest up against your back. He leaned in to speak the next words directly in your ear. “I’m having you in my bed tonight.”

Your breath caught.

You couldn’t move, and a soft, “Mr. Barnes,” was all you could say.

“Aw, none of that, plum, you haven’t called me Mr. Barnes for months, and I won’t it happening again now.”

“We shouldn’t,” you tried to protest, but even as you said the words, a traitorous part of you didn’t put much feeling behind them.

“Shouldn’t we? You’re smart enough to know I didn’t really need to bring you on this trip with me, but I wanted to. Didn’t want to go that long without seeing you, wanted you by my side in a charming Nordic country during the height of its festive season, and you said yes, like the perfect assistant that you are. I told myself that was enough, didn’t go knocking on your door any of the nights we were at our first hotel, kept it professional despite wanting more and more of you every day we spent together away from the office.”

His hand moved from your hips to circle around your front, his left moving over your soft stomach over to the other side to rest over the front of your right hip, and his right further up your torso, his hand brushing the underside of your breast and resting firmly just below it, bringing you flush against him.

“Fate won’t let me get you home for Christmas, so why deny what it’s dangling right in front of me now?”

He pressed his lips to the sensitive spot just below your ear, and a small whimper escaped your throat.

“Let me have what I want,” he murmured, leaving a slow trail of more kisses down your neck. “I know you want it, too.”

“I – no, I don’t – I”

It was impossible to put up the words of protest when he licked the shell of your ear. You shivered in his arms instead.

“Let me ruin my perfect girl,” he pressed, slipping the hand that was at your hip into the waistband of your trousers. His hand stopped when his fingers met the lace edge of your panties. He turned you around abruptly and kissed you full on the mouth, cupping your face with both hands so you had no choice but to take the heat of his kiss, and the flame he’d been sparking started to catch more dangerously in your core.

He had somehow maneuvered you further into the sitting room so that when he suddenly broke off the kiss, you were in the middle of the space, the warm glow of the fire and the tree lights casting over you both.

Bucky stepped back, and you frowned in confusion, still breathless. He trailed a finger up the column of your throat to the tip of your chin, his blue eyes dark and hungry. “Undress,” he said.

He moved to the couch and sat, his eyes returning to you as he settled in.

“Undress,” he repeated.

That commanding tone struck another spark right to your cunt. You knew you were already growing wet for him.

You toed off your shoes one at a time, then took off your socks – those requiring you to move a little less elegantly than you wanted with his searing gaze on you. Standing aright again, your hands moved to the button of your trousers, fingers trembling since you had never stripped in front of anyone before. You weren’t a virgin, but although the partners you had been with before had been eager to have you naked, none had ever asked you to undress for them like this, like they wanted to see your full figure, not just fuck it.

Bucky spoke your name in a way that had you pause and look up at him again.

He leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “You know I pride myself on my instincts. I think we both want this, but there are two rooms here.”

You bit your lip.

He was offering the veiled choice if you wanted it.

Your mind raced with flashbacks of conversations and thoughts you’d had over the past few weeks clear back to the first few meetings with your boss.

Insisting to your mother that your boss did absolutely need you to fly with him to Norway to assist him with meetings with an international client the week before Christmas.

Your best friend insisting on a shopping trip for your fancy work trip to a foreign country “because if your hot boss isn’t going to seduce you, have a foreign fling!”

Your heart stuttering the first time your eyes met your boss’s deep blues the day you interviewed with him.

The same eyes that were riveted on you now.

On you.

You unbuttoned your trousers and lowered the zipper. You glanced down as the fell to the floor, then stepped carefully out of them. When you looked back up, you saw even more hunger in Bucky’s eyes, and it warmed your blood. Looking right into those eyes, you reached for the hem of your sweater and lifted it up and over your head, letting it drop to the floor as well.

“Mmm,” he hummed in approval. “C’m’ere,” he beckoned, sitting back on the couch again, but beckoning you into his lap as he watched your every move.

You concentrated on his eyes and on keeping your breathing steady. When you were close enough for him to reach for you, he held out his hand. You took it and let him pull you gently down to straddle your legs on either side of his.

“My perfect plum,” he murmured. His hands moved up your thighs, over your hips, up your waist, and back down.

“Your plum?” you asked, watching his face as his eyes roved over you up close.

“My perfect plum - I want to savor every delicious curve of your body,” he said before dropping a kiss to the top of your breast. Your hands went to his shoulders to steady yourself. “When I felt that lace of your underwear, I thought maybe you did want this, too.” His lips moved to the other breast where he kissed the exposed skin, then traced his tongue along the edge of the lacy cup, causing you to shiver. “There isn’t any other reason you would be wearing such pretty lingerie, is there?”

“No,” you admitted immediately.

“Just for me,” he said as he moved his hand to your mound and immediately slipped a finger beneath the fabric to stroke along your folds, making you gasp. “Good girl, already wet for me.”

You keened as his finger traced your warm hole but didn’t go in, instead taking the slick there and pressing it up over your folds. He continued tracing them up and down before moving up to find your clit, knowing he found it the second your head dropped back, and you let a, “Yes,” tumble from your lips. “More.”

His other hand skimmed up from your hip, up your side, to your neck, and then angled your head back down for another kiss. Your lips met his eagerly, mouths parting, you licked into his mouth, and he growled his approval. He moved his finger from your clit, but your whine was brief as he slipped that finger along with a second straight into your cunt, stroking in and out, over and over again. You canted your hips into his hand, and you felt the rumble of a chuckle in his chest, but he didn’t stop kissing you. Instead, he curled his fingers forward with each stroke, quickly finding the spongy spot that made you tremble and moan.

Breathless, it was you who had to break off the kiss first, but you pressed your forehead to his. “Feel good, plum?” he asked, and you registered that he sounded as earnest as you felt, his voice deep and a little breathless, too.

“Yes, sir,” you gasped.

“Mmm, sir? I like that,” he said, and rewarded you by moving his thumb to start circling your clit.

You moaned openly.

“That noise…keep making it.”

He sped up his motions just slightly, seeming to feel how your body was tensing up, building toward a powerful release.

“Ready to cum for me like a good girl?”

“Yes, sir!” your answer was more like a plea. “So close.”

Keeping up the rhythm on your clit, he applied more pressure with each thrust of his fingers up inside of you, hitting that sensitive spot on the front of your walls, and with just a few more strokes, the wave crested and rolled over you.

“That’s it, plum,” he cooed as you trembled above him, his other hand coming to smooth unhurriedly up and down your back as his fingers continued to stroke your channel, slowly extending your orgasm. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

He removed his fingers and brought them up to your mouth. You sucked them in, laving your tongue over them. “Can’t wait to see you come for me again,” he said. And too impatient for you to lick his fingers clean, he withdrew them and crashed his lips back into yours.

“Earlier tonight when I said I should apologize, and you called me right out for not doing any such thing?”

“Yes?”

“This is why I didn’t apologize. I was in no way sorry that I had more time with you, and I’m going to use it to take you apart and put you back together all night.”

You would think about all of this later. But he emptied your head of anything but him and the pleasure between you, making more than good on his promise to take you apart until you were completely spent and ruined in his bed.

READ THE SEQUEL: NOW THAT I SAW YOU

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[jobean12-blog]

Making Time

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (CEO!Bucky AU)

Word Count: 1,601

Summary: You're busy, your husband is busy but there's always time to play.

Author's Note: Just a little something fun. Life has been busy lately and it was just making me think of how hard it is to find time for the extra special things and sometimes you have to get creative haha! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always!❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics Thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: there's always the softness there, teasing, tension, masturbation (f), car sex, a curse or three

“Mr. Barnes, your wife is here to see you.”

Bucky stands behind his large mahogany desk and runs a hand along his jaw.

“Send her in.”

You walk through the door with a flourish and a smile.

“Hi Buck,” you sing.

“Doll face,” he greets, his smile playful as it teases his lips. “Missed me that much?”

He calls you over with a crook of his finger and pulls you in a for a kiss.

“Always,” you whisper against his lips. “You’ve been working late every night this week and we haven’t had lunch once!”

You pout but he kisses it off your lips.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t meet you today. This new account is a real pain in my ass.”

His fingers gently stroke your cheek before pressing under your chin to hold your face to his for more kisses.

“I know,” you say, “I brought you some food and thought we could at least spend our lunch hour together.”

You plop the takeout bag on the corner of his desk and then slip around him to sit in his leather chair.

He turns and leans back against the desk, studying you. Just as he’s about to say something his phone rings. He reaches for it, answering with an indifferent “yes.”

With a nod he starts speaking into the phone, clearly talking about this new ‘pain in the ass’ account. His jaw tenses and his fingers tighten around the receiver showing his clear annoyance over the disruption.

You cross your legs, and his eyes track the movement, lingering before he motions for you to stand.

He reaches forward, pen poised between his finger and thumb, and uses the tip to lift the hem of your skirt.

It’s slow and deliberate and when he sees the lace of your stockings and the garter belt his eyes widen.

They move up your body, darkening as they travel, and your heart begins to beat faster.

“No, no,” he says sternly into the phone. “Nothing like that…”

You fall back into his chair and spread your legs, hiking the skirt up to your hips.

“Yes, I understand,” he says, his voice deeper and slightly hoarse now.

Your fingertips trace the lines of the garter, along your bare skin to the silk of your panties.

“Yes,” he continues into the phone, eyes locked on your every move.

You throw him a false saccharine smile and pull your bottom lip between your teeth as you push your panties aside and run two fingers along your wet skin.

He coughs and grabs his water, taking a large sip.

“That’s fine, Steve. We can work with that timeline.”

The plastic bottle crushes under the weight of his grip, and your smile turns devilish. You begin moving your fingers, your eyes falling closed and head dropping back against the chair.

You imagine his long fingers doing the work, touching you, grabbing your hips. A tiny moan escapes, and you think about his taut arm muscles, strained and flexing as he moves his fingers inside you…his eyes, dark and pleading.

You look up to see them exactly as that, his gaze drifting from your face to the hand between your legs. His hungry expression moves back to your face, and he watches you fall apart with his name on your parted lips.

It’s overwhelming and unsatisfying: you need it to be his touch.

At some point, he ended the call, and now your heavy breathing is too loud for the quiet room as he sits across from you on the desk, his free hand gripping the edge so hard his knuckles are turning white.

“Fuck doll,” he growls. “Look what you do to me.”

He adjusts himself in his pants and you see the straining outline of his cock pressed along the tight fabric.

You grin and start to straighten yourself out.

“Pretty sure I just did that to myself…”

His eyes sparkle and he lifts his brows. “Should have been me.”

“Obviously. And now our lunch is over, and I have to go back to work.”

You stand and smooth down your skirt.

“Like hell you’re goin’ back to work,” he whisper shouts.

Your only response is to grab his tie and yank his lips down to yours before you walk through his door and down the hall, your heels clicking until you disappear onto the elevator. His loud, “fuck!” the last thing you hear.

The moment you step off the elevator you have a text from him.

“I’m picking you up at work. Five sharp. And I don’t want to hear shit about it.”

You smile but don’t respond, shoving your phone back into your bag and heading out through the double doors to your own office building.

It’s five on the dot and you look out your office window, noticing the sleek black car that pulls up right in front. Deciding to take your time, you tidy up your desk and gather your things, stepping out to meet him at about eight minutes after five.

“You’re late,” Bucky says when he gets out to hold the door open for you.

With a demure shrug you slide into the seat and watch him breeze around the car. He doesn’t drive away from the curb, and you look over to see his nostrils flared.

“Aren’t you going to take me home?”

“Get in the backseat.”

You blink several times and stare.

“What?”

“You heard me. Get in the backseat. Now.”

He reaches over to unbuckle the seatbelt for you, waiting with heated eyes for you to do as you’re told.

“You want to play doll. We’ll play.”

You smirk and start to climb over the middle console to the plush and spacious leather seats in the back. He lands a hard smack to your ass when you pass by, and you let out a squeal as you fall against the soft material.

He pushes through the middle, his tie hanging loosely in the air, and you grab it, pulling him on top of you. With a growl he kisses you, rough and without patience. He wastes no time pulling your shirt free of your skirt and ripping the buttons apart until it falls open to reveal your lacy bra.

“All day. All fucking day,” he murmurs.

“All day what?” you sass against his lips as you work open his pants.

“I’ve been hard and thinking about nothing else but burying myself between your legs.”

His hands wander over your skin, and he slips them under your skirt, pushing it up to your hips and then tracing the delicate little ribbons on the edge of your stockings.

You pull his chest to yours and kiss him, long and deep, gaining more urgency with every inch of skin uncovered.

You rip his shirt from his pants and explore the skin over his ribs, the sharp definition of muscle at his hips, and the soft trail of hair that disappears into his boxer briefs.

He groans into your mouth and deftly unhooks your garter belt, peeling your panties down and spreading your legs.

Pulling your leg forward you push him back and off you, sitting up so you can shove him against the seat back and straddle his lap.

With frantic hands you reach down and take him between your fingers, guiding his cock into you. Your eyes close as you slowly slide down every thick inch of him.

“Oh my god,” you moan.

You start to ride him, the pain of his rough fingertips on your hips only fueling you on. His sounds of pleasure are muffled between your breasts, and he pulls one bra cup down to close his mouth around your hardened nipple.

Your palm hits the dark tinted window and slides down from the condensation, but your hips don’t falter, and you hear him moan out your name.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come if you keep that up doll.”

He lifts you off him and roughly throws you down onto the seat. Pushing your legs apart he thrusts back in and picks one of your legs up over his shoulder.

“Oh fuck, yes.”

“Yeah doll?”

He smirks down at you and reaches out to grip the door frame and uses it for leverage, pushing deeper.

“Is this how you like it? This is what you get for showin’ up in my office and teasing me like that.”

“No,” you sass back and lift your hips to meet his. “I like it harder Bucky.”

“Fuck,” he murmurs.

The windows are completely fogged and your slick skin slides along the leather seats. You watch as his body strains with effort, the tendons in his neck pulled tight and you slip your legs off his shoulders, tugging all his weight on top of you, pleading over and over for more.

“Anything,” he growls. “I’ll give you anything.”

Your nails dig into his back, and you cry out his name. He swears, loud and deep and stutters above you.

With a satisfied sigh he collapses, burying his face in your neck. You can’t resist running your hands through his hair, feeling his heart race against your chest. You lay there together in the cramped space, breathing each other in until he lifts his head and your eyes lock.

“I love you baby,” he whispers against your lips.

“Love you too Buck.”

“Come on,” he says, gently helping you up and fixing what he can of your clothing. His touch is a soft caress, and you lean into it.

“Let’s get you home doll. I’ll make dinner and then you can be my dessert.”

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Honey Girl. Chapter Ten.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Eleven. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Chapter Synopsis - The two of you have some time to yourselves for what feels like the first time in forever.

Pairing - Dadsbestfriend!Bucky Barnes x female reader - soulmate au

Warnings - smut. cursing. mention of a panic attack. initial hospital setting. one alcohol mention.

Word Count - 4k

Authors Note - 10!! 10 whole chapters!! can you believe it!! pancake recipe taken from mr carlos sainz - thanks carlito <3. double date next chapter (with protective/jealous bucky, as requested ;)). and the much awaited conversation… coming very soon. thanks for the love and support and kindness. it means the world, always <3

as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my writing, which generates more of it. feel free to send me a comment or an inbox, too!! thanks, my loves!! <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

“Before I came down to find you, your Mom raised a question with me.”

“… which was?”

He takes a deep breath. Exhales it shakily.

“She asked me how long you and I have been soulmates.”

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

“We can’t sit out here forever, honey.”

You stretch out your legs from where they’ve been tucked up against your chest, chin resting on your knees. Bucky places a hand on your thigh, thumb rubbing gentle circles.

“We can.”

He chuckles, pressing a kiss into the top of your head.

“I know it’s scary, but we can’t run from this any longer. We’re just going to have to face it head on.”

“I know,” you sigh, taking his hand in yours. “I’m just…”

You trail off, leaving words unspoken in the air like particles of dust in the sunlight.

“What are you so afraid of? Is it that they won’t support us? Honey girl, they aren’t gonna have much of a choice. We are literally soulmates.”

You’re trying to find a way to explain, but none of your thoughts are coherent enough to articulate into something comprehensible.

“I don’t know, Buck. At first, I think it was that. But now? Maybe I just feel guilty that we’ve kept something so huge a secret for so long. I used to tell my parents everything - by choice. That’s how we’ve always been. And suddenly, the biggest event of my life happens, and I… didn’t tell them?”

“You’re letting this guilt eat you alive, baby. Listen, I feel it too. You’re not alone in this. Do you know how many times your parents have asked me about dating in these last eighteen months? How many times we’ve talked about soulmates? And I guess I never lied… but I haven’t exactly told the truth. I’m just as guilty as you think you are.”

“I’m sorry,” you confess, resting your head against his broad shoulder. “I’ve had such tunnel vision with this whole situation. I’ve been selfish. I should have thought about you more.”

“You haven’t had to.”

“Hmm?”

“You’ve got nothing to apologise for, honey baby. You’ve never had to ‘think about me more’, because you’ve known how I felt this whole time. In here.”

He places a hand over your heart. You close your eyes, letting the warmth from his palm bleed into your chest. The weight of it grounds you back down to Earth, tethered to your soulmate in more ways than one.

“That’s the beauty of it,” he continues. “You don’t have to guess how I’m feeling, or when I’m feeling it - because I’m always telling you. And you’re always listening.”

“I don’t deserve you,” you whisper, squeezing his hand where it’s still linked with yours.

“The Universe disagrees,” he whispers back, leaning in to kiss the spot underneath your ear. “I disagree.”

It’s all so tender, so gentle, so real, that a lump in your throat forms instantly. You blink rapidly, fighting back tears as you press your side into his. If you could sew yourself into his ribcage and live there forever, resting your head on his beating heart, you would.

“Come on,” he coaxes carefully, pulling you to your feet and watching to see if you’re steady enough. “Let’s do this thing.”

You stare up at him, lost in those ocean blue irises. For a moment, you swear you see the waves moving in them, crashing against the shore in a motion so comforting, it reminds you of home.

“I love you.”

Bucky smiles at you, pupils dilating and heart beating that little bit faster. He’ll never get sick of hearing those words.

“I love you more than all the stars in the sky, honey girl. More than anything.”

Tangling your fingers with his, you inhale deeply before taking the first step forwards, towards the front doors of the hospital.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

When you reach your Dad’s room, you drop Bucky’s hand as if by instinct. When he links your fingers once more, you panic momentarily, before realising it’s futile.

They already know. There’s no point in hiding it anymore.

You walk through the door hand in hand, pressed into each others sides as if it’ll keep you standing upright. Maybe it will.

Your Mom instantly bolts out of her chair, coming over to assess you. She looks you up and down, cradling your face in her hands as she checks you over.

“You were gone a long time, sweetheart. You okay? Have you been crying?”

Bucky lets go of you to give you some space, but doesn’t go too far. You can still feel his warmth from behind you as you watch your Mom’s eyebrows furrow with worry.

“I had… I think it was, um… like a - a panic attack, or something. I don’t know. I just got overwhelmed.”

Your voice sounds so small again, so fragile. You mentally chastise yourself for not being stronger for her.

“Oh, honey.”

She pulls you into her chest, stroking your hair just like she did when you were a child and had a nightmare. You’d run across the hall and into your parents room - your Mom would always bolt upright when she heard little feet on the wooden floors, waiting for you with open arms.

“Your Dad is gonna be fine. I promise you, the Doctors have said he’ll make a full recovery.”

“It’s true.”

The voice is croaky and rusted from misuse, but it unmistakably belongs to the man lying in the hospital bed.

You make your way over and sit down carefully, cautious and calculated. Your Dad takes your hand, stroking his thumb across your skin.

“I’m gonna be just fine, kid. I know I scared you, and I’m really sorry. But I’m okay. Promise.”

You smile at him, genuinely this time, before leaning in to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

“You guys should go home.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Go home, get some rest. The two of you look almost as exhausted as Lori does.”

Your Mom laughs, shaking her head. You chuckle, watching them. There’s no one funnier than your soulmate.

“I think we should stay a little longer, Jack.”

Bucky’s voice has all three of your heads whipping around to face him.

“Buck, please be on my side here. You’re tired. Go home, sleep it off. All I’m gonna do for the next twenty four hours is sleep anyway. There’s no point in you sitting here watching me like a bunch of creeps.”

You chew your bottom lip, watching your Dad’s face carefully.

“Mom, Dad - we need to talk about-”

“I know, babygirl,” your Dad interrupts. “And we will. But not here, and not now. We’ll do it when I’m home. We can all sit on the couch and drink your Mom’s cherry lemonade and talk about how you and Bucky have been soulmates this entire time.”

“Not this entire time,” you grumble at his attempt at a joke.

“Seriously, you two. I won’t ask again. Go. Home.”

You look at your Dad for a moment, before averting your gaze to your Mom. They’re both wearing the exact same facial expression - the one they used to give you when you’d refuse your bedtime as a six year old on a school night.

“Come on, honey. You heard them. We’re practically dead on our feet.”

You rise from the bed reluctantly, pressing another kiss to your Dad’s cheek before doing the same to your Mom.

“Call me if anything changes, or if you need anything. I mean anything, you guys.”

They both nod as your Dad does a mock salute, laughing at himself.

Bucky extends his hand out for you. This time, you don’t hesitate to take it. You hold it tightly all the way back to his truck, and then all the way back home.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You and Bucky get ready for bed in silence, both of you flitting around your apartment as quickly as possible. You can’t wait to finally get under your duvet and lose the stress of the last twenty four hours.

The minute your head hits the pillow, you’re wide awake.

The exhaustion has seeped into your bones, making you weary but restless. You can’t settle, physically or mentally.

Bucky, on the other hand, is out like a light.

He looks so peaceful like this. The moonlight soaks through a gap in the curtains, illuminating his face like some sort of angel. His hair is a little longer than usual, stubble growing out across his sharp jawline. He looks rugged, a little rough around the edges. He’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

As if he can feel your gaze on him, he cracks an eye open, blinking to adjust to the dimly lit room. He has a pillow crease across his skin, cheek flushed pink with a dusty blush.

“You okay, baby?”

His voice is hoarse and all sleep heavy, rumbling through you like gentle summer thunder.

“Can’t sleep,” you whisper, trying to fight back tears. “I’m so tired, Buck. So fucking tired.”

“But you can’t sleep?”

He pulls you into his chest, tucking your head into the crook of his neck and stroking your hair soothingly.

“It’s like my body is exhausted, but my brain is wide awake,” you mumble into his bare skin. “Doesn’t make sense.”

“Nothing makes sense,” he chuckles lowly. “Nothing in this goddamn world makes sense. Except for me and you.”

Bucky spins you in his arms so your back is to his chest, bodies pressed together without an inch of space between you. Pressing a kiss into your neck, he starts mumbling.

“You just need to turn your brain off, baby. I know it’s easier said than done… so I’m gonna help you. All you need to do is focus on my voice, on my touch. Focus your attention on my hands on you, my lips on your skin. The heat of my body against yours.”

He skims his fingers down your side, gripping at your hips to ground you. He’s still kissing your neck, nipping occasionally to vary the sensation. He slips a hand down your front, cupping you over your underwear as you close your eyes, breathing him in. He smells like salt water and sea air and gasoline and home.

You cant your hips into his touch, trying to get him where you want him. Bucky takes the hint, slipping his hand into your panties and running a finger through your wetness. You groan, throwing your head back into his solid shoulder.

“Just switch off, honey baby. Give in to me.”

Bucky glides a finger into you, crooking it towards him. His palm hits your clit and you keen, whining all high pitched and breathy. His hips buck into your backside at the sound, and he chuckles.

“Fuck, you sound so sweet. Sweetest girl in the world.”

He adds another finger, using his thumb to circle your clit in precise, firm motions. You’re writhing against the mattress like a serpent, unable to stay still as Bucky takes you apart.

“Come for me, baby. Can feel you squeezin’ my fingers. That’s it, atta girl… ride my hand, take what you need. Wanna hear how pretty you sound when you come.”

Your entire body tightens up as you reach your climax, back arching away from Bucky as he continues to curl his fingers. He pulls you close, anchors you to him as you moan and shudder.

Your head is empty, besides the thought of your soulmate. All you can think about is Bucky.

Bucky Bucky Bucky Bucky Bucky.

You take a stuttered inhale as you try to catch your breath, beads of sweat dripping down your back.

“You okay?”

He’s muttering into your shoulder, mouth never leaving your skin. You nod, linking your fingers with his where they rest on your waist.

“You didn’t come,” you whisper, leaning your head back into Bucky.

He kisses your cheek, chuckling lowly.

“This wasn’t about me,” he reassures. “It’s all about you, baby. Always is.”

The two of you breathe together for a little while, allowing you to come down from your high. Eventually, Bucky taps your thigh, nudging you up.

“Come on, honey. Get up and use the bathroom, and then we’ll sleep for the next week.”

You do as he says, crawling back into bed with limbs that feel like jelly.

“How you feelin’?” he asks as he pulls you into his side, resting your head on his chest.

“Fucking fantastic.”

He laughs and you can’t help but laugh too, as if by reflex.

“Yeah? No more racing thoughts in that pretty head of yours?”

“None. All I can think about is how much I want to sleep right now.”

Pressing a kiss onto the top of your head, Bucky tightens his arms around you.

“Then sleep, baby.”

You snuggle into your soulmates side, relaxing into the mattress.

“I love you,” you mumble into his skin.

“I love you,” he murmurs back. “Sweet dreams, honey girl.”

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

When you wake, you can’t tell if you’ve slept for five minutes or five days.

The sheets are crumpled, linen strewn across the bed as the pillows sit completely unmoved at the headboard. Sunlight filters in through the curtains, warming your skin that’s exposed to the sea soaked breeze.

You reach over to the other side of the mattress, seeking Bucky’s warmth. You’re met with empty space, and the sound of a throat clearing on the other side of the room.

The man in question is leaning against the doorframe, shirtless and sun kissed. His boxers are hugging his thighs just right, and you repress the urge to crawl over and sink your teeth into the muscle. Later.

“Morning or afternoon?” You croak out, watching as he softly smiles at your sleep addled voice.

“Morning. Eleven twenty four.”

You stretch your arms above your head, unaware of the way Bucky’s eyes are glued to your bare stomach.

“You want breakfast, or have you eaten?”

“Haven’t eaten yet. Was waiting for you.”

You slide down to the end of the bed where Bucky meets you, leaning down to press a minty kiss to your lips.

“Have you been awake long?”

He shakes his head, stealing another kiss.

“Ten minutes or so.”

“How’d you sleep?”

He moves some hair away from your face gently, the morning affection making you light up inside.

“Like a baby. Don’t think I moved once.”

You laugh, running your fingers over his bare shoulders.

“I can’t remember the last time I slept like that.”

“Me neither. I think we need to start prioritising sleep a little more.”

“It’s just… so hard,” you murmur, rising onto your knees on the bed so you’re face to face. “I don’t ever want to sleep when I have the most handsome man alive in my bed. I can think of many other things I’d rather be doing.”

He groans, chuckling lowly.

“Watch it,” he warns. “Or I’ll keep you in this bed all day. Won’t let you leave.”

“Is that a threat or a promise, Barnes?”

He football tackles you suddenly, both of you falling backwards into the plush sheets. You squeal, caught off guard as his hands squeeze your sides firmly.

“Keep running your mouth and see what happens, angel.”

You card your fingers through his hair, tugging slightly to get a reaction. When his eyes flutter closed, you breathe out a laugh.

“I’m so scared,” you tease, peppering his face with gentle kisses. “Like, quaking in my boots.”

He goes to retort, but is interrupted by the deafening sound of your stomach rumbling.

“If we weren’t about to get noise complaints from the neighbours about that hunger of yours, I would absolutely continue this. But…”

“We need to eat.”

“Yes, we do.”

You peck his cheek before jumping off the bed, stretching as you make your way to the kitchen. Bucky follows you eagerly. Of course he does.

You click the coffee maker on as you spin to face him where he’s leaning against the counter.

“I’m about to make you the best pancakes you’ll eat in your entire life, James.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Watch and learn, baby.”

When he doesn’t move, you walk him backwards, pulling out the bar stool from underneath the island.

“You just sit there and look pretty.”

He shakes his head with a smirk as you wink, turning on the stove and grabbing your bowls and utensils. He didn’t ask for a cooking lesson, but you’re about to give him one.

“The trick is to separate the egg whites from the yolks, and whip them. When they’re fluffy, you fold them into your mixture, and it makes the pancakes light and airy and gorgeous. Then you add honey, for extra sweetness.”

He watches you flit around the kitchen as if you’re the sun, bright and warm and radiant. He can’t take his eyes off you for a second. He couldn’t if he wanted to.

Bucky’s blinking back tears, suddenly, as you sway your hips while flipping the pancakes at the stove. He wants to drop to his knees, yell out to a higher power and ask what the hell he did to deserve someone like you. He’ll beg, if he has to, for someone, something, to make sure that he finds you in every universe, in every version of this crazy life.

“I love you,” you beam at him, as if you’ve read his mind. “I love you more than anything.”

Your grin is so blinding, so utterly brilliant that the entire room lights up with it. Your own form of electricity.

“I… I-”

“I know, Buck.”

It gets like this, sometimes. Too overwhelming to put into words. To love someone more than anything, anyone - a love that knows no bounds - is completely indescribable.

So he doesn’t even try. He just nods at you, watching as your eyes light up at the sight of him.

“Will you pour us some coffee while I put these on a plate?”

“Anything you need,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your hair as he squeezes past you to grab the mugs. “Always.”

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You settle down to eat on the balcony, letting the midday sun warm you both up.

“I brought syrup, but, I also brought this.”

You hold out a plastic tub that contains a dark pink mixture, popping the lid off.

“Try it.”

Bucky sticks his little finger in, putting it in his mouth and sighing in contentment at the taste that coats his tongue.

“Good?”

“So good. What is it?”

“My homemade raspberry and lemon coulis. I make it to go on top of pancakes and waffles - it beats maple syrup any day.”

“You’re a genius.”

“So it’s been said,” you laugh, pouring it over your plate. “Now eat before they go cold.”

“Yes ma’am.”

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

“You weren’t lying,” he says when he’s finished. “They were the best pancakes I’ve ever eaten.”

You laugh, sliding across to press your side into his.

“There’s a lot more where that came from. I have so many recipes I want you to try.”

“God, I’m so lucky. I have the most perfect soulmate in the world, and she’s a baker. What did I do to deserve you, hmm?”

You lean in to kiss him gently, licking across his lips. He tastes like raspberries and sugar and eight hours of sleep.

You’re sat in comfortable silence when your phone rings, startling you both.

“Hello?”

“Babe?”

“Lacie?”

“Hey!”

“Hi!”

You smile instantly, and Bucky does too, by default.

“Your Mom called me and told me about your Dad. She’s been keeping me updated over text. How are you guys holding up?”

“We’re good, honestly. It was a little touch and go at first, but now… we’re okay. All of us.”

“Good. I love you guys.”

“Love you too. So much.”

She sighs all deep and wistful, and you can’t help but chuckle.

“What’s up, Lace?”

“Well… I’m calling with a proposition. And I feel like you’re gonna say no, but your Mom already told me that I had to force you to do it, so.”

“Oh, God.”

“Come on a double date with me and Cameron tonight. Come for dinner and drinks with us.”

You take a deep breath, looking over at Bucky. He nods in agreement, encouraging you.

“Okay.”

“Yeah?”

Her surprise is undeniable, the octave of her voice rising ever higher.

“Yeah. I haven’t seen you in too long, and it’ll be good for me to meet Cameron, finally. Plus, we’re visiting my Dad this afternoon, so we have a free evening.”

“Oh my God, I am so excited! Okay, I’ll text you the address of where we’re eating. Cam knows so much about you already, he can’t wait to meet you. And I can’t wait to meet Bucky… again? I mean I’ve met him before, but not as your soulmate.”

“Yeah,” you giggle. “It’ll be good for everyone to get… reacquainted.”

“Exactly!”

“Alright, Lace. We’ve gotta get ready to visit my Dad, but I’ll see you later?”

“See you later, babe. I am so excited. See you then!”

She puts the phone down, and you can almost picture the cloud of perfume and pressed powder that’s about to rain down on her bedroom. You wish you were there to watch it happen, like old times.

“Our first double date, huh?”

“It’ll be our last if you don’t behave,” you tease, leaning in to peck Bucky’s lips.

“Don’t tempt me.”

You laugh into his mouth, running your fingers through the ends of his hair at the back of his neck. It’s the longest you’ve seen it, and it’s starting to curl all cute and soft and wispy.

“Come on. Let’s go see my Dad, and then spend hours mentally preparing ourselves for Storm Lacie.”

“I always liked her. Seemed good for you.”

“She is. She’s the best.”

Bucky wraps a strong arm around your shoulder as you swing your legs over his lap, burying yourself in his bare chest.

“You nervous?” he asks into your temple.

“A little, weirdly. Meeting each others soulmate is the kind of thing we’d talk about when we were kids. And now we’re doing it.��

“We can handle it,” he reassures, his thumb rubbing patterns into your arm. “We can handle anything, you and I.”

“Anything?”

“Anything, honey girl. Anything.”

tag list part one

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