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whitewolfwave-blog · 6 years ago

Text

Friends >> b.b. x fem!reader

Word count: 2806

Rating: SFW

Synopsis: You're captured by a mysterious man. Unexpectedly, this goes far better than you could have anticipated, and in the end, you might even make a friend.

Notes: I'm getting fics and stuff done but I can't like ?? Finish everything in the order I want to, or find a pace at which to post what I want to post. Someone plz help

You didn't know where you were when you woke. You didn't even know when you'd passed out; all that you knew was that your mission was screwed thanks to some asshole who'd shown up to do the exact same thing you were supposed to do.

Your eyes darted around the room in search of any piece of evidence that would clue you in on your location. There was nothing; the room was padded with sound-proofing foam squares, nothing in it except for the cameras in the corners and the chair you were tied to. You tugged on the restraints around your wrists, but to no avail; they wouldn't budge. Unlike most of your colleagues, your "team," you weren't enhanced. Your wit and skill could only get you so far.

You turned toward a camera with a scowl, sticking your tongue out like a child. You doubted this would get a rise out of whoever was holding you, but hey, you were pissed. Relentlessly, you continued to pull at your restraints, grunts of frustration sounding throughout the room. Shock gripped you when a panel of the wall moved forward, and in stepped a man of large stature with long, brown hair that fell into his face. With him, he dragged a chair, turning it around and sitting on it backwards. You stilled, no longer trying to rip the restraints off. Confusion gripped you when you noticed that his left hand- the one on the chair- looked as if it was metal.

"Who the hell are you?" You spat.

"You don't need to know that, Miss Y/L/N. All you need to know is that I know you and that you are in some deep, deep shit. But, if you comply, I can get you out of it." The man's voice was smooth, his tone gentle yet firm enough to unsettle you. You wondered what other information he had on you.

"Comply to what?" You maintained an aggressive demeanor.

"I'm just going to ask you a few questions, alright?" You didn't answer. "What were you doing in that Hydra facility?"

"I don't know, probably the same shit that your stupid guy was doing-"

"Our guy? Do you seriously not remember what happened?" He chuckled, "I was expecting some anger, some guardedness, maybe even some fear, but I certainly wasn't expecting you to flat out not know me. Do you remember anything from your mission today, anything at all?"

"No, I clearly do not-"

"That's a shame."

"Stop interrupting me!" You raised your voice, though you were certainly in no position to do so. Your muscles tensed when the man's calm demeanor shifted.

"What were you doing?" He demanded through grit teeth, leaning towards you over the back of his chair. You vigorously shook your head, refusing to give up any information. "Miss Y/L/N, if you don't give me what I need, we'll find it in other ways. We don't need you alive."

"I'm not telling you a damn thing about the people I work for," you insisted. He nodded.

"Y/N, we took their tracking device out of your neck. You don't have to be afraid of them. We know."

"You... you know?" Your heart raced with the thought of the people who owned their organization, who owned you, finding out you'd escaped their grasp.

"Yes. We know. Now, I need you to tell me why you were there. I need you to cooperate. If you don't, things might get a little messy." In the corner of your eye, you caught the glint of a blade.

Tears threatening to spill over, a fear for your life taking over, you choked out, "I was there to assassinate a scientist- Dr. Fennhoff. Your guy was there to do the same thing when the fucking idiot knocked me out and prevented me from finishing the mission. Hydra probably knows we were there now and the next time your moronic guy goes back, it'll be quite a bit fucking harder to kill him- if I even live to see my next mission."

"There won't be a next mission," he explained, "Dr. Fennhoff is dead, and you're in good hands."

"What- how? Why are we here, then? Who killed him? Who's hands am I in?"

"We're on an airship, doll," he told you, shaking his head, "and I killed him. I'm the idiot you keep referring to. You'll see who soon enough."

"Oh." Blood rushed to your cheeks. "I'm uh, I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"Clearly," he smiled, an amused twinkle in his eye. "I'm not done questioning you, Miss Y/L/N. This won't take long, I promise."

He told the truth; the questioning, as opposed to the usual 4+ hours, was only roughly an hour and a half long.

"Thank you for your compliance, Y/N," he said softly, "I'll get you out of here as soon as I can." He turned to the door, looked at what you presumed to be a camera behind you, and nodded.

You heard clicks and shifts in the wall. Before he could step out, you cried, "Wait! Can you untie my hands, at least? Please?" He stood still for a moment, a smirk on his lips.

"You know, I like you," he laughed, "but not that much. Not yet." The man, who never told you his name, stepped out of the room, leaving you with endless curiosities.

Only a few minutes must have passed when the panel opened again, but this time, instead of your interrogator, the person in front of you was the one and only Tony Stark. He leaned against the wall, leaving the panel-door open, and stared you down.

"You made quite a mess, Y/N."

"H-how do you..." You trailed off. You'd given up on figuring out how they'd gotten so much information on you. Obviously, if Tony Stark was involved, the possibilities were endless. You weren't even sure if you wanted to find out anymore.

"Look, kid, we're interested in you."

"We?"

"No questions. Just listen, for now."

"Yes, sir, Mr. Stark."

"That show you put on back there, with Barnes, that was unbelievable. We'd like to see if you can do more."

"Barnes..." you said to yourself, the familiarity of the name irking you. "Who is that?"

"James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky Barnes, Winter Soldier. Whatever the kids are calling him these days." You choked on air when the man in front of you revealed who your captor was. I fought THE Winter Soldier and I... I didn't die.

You though that must have been why Tony, S.H.I.E.L.D., and the Avengers themselves were so interested in you; Barnes couldn't take you, a non-enhanced being, down in hand-to-hand combat. You'd come to find that the interest wasn't so new, after all.

A month after you woke from that drug-induced slumber in a holding cell on one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s helicarriers, the Avengers had taken you in as one of their own. Natasha and Wanda sat on your bed as you recounted events from your childhood, stories from past relationships, listening intently to every word you had to say. For the first time since you were taken from your parents at only 5 years old, you had a family. You had people who wanted to know you, and everything about you. This team was nothing like the one you had before; it was far better.

One night, as you laid in Wanda's floor next to Natasha, listening to the young girl complain on her bed, the light filling the room flickered before surging, brighter than ever.

"I just- whoa, that's never happened in here before." The moment the words left Wanda's mouth, it happened again.

"What the hell?" Natasha grumbled, her head popping up from its place on the ground. Not even a minute later, the lightbulb casting light over Wanda's room exploded, shards of glass cascading down. "Fuck!" Natasha yelled, throwing her arms over her face and jumping from the ground.

You'd been facing the light when it happened, a fact that registered immediately when you felt hot blood trickling down your left cheek.

"Y/N, are you okay?!" Wanda exclaimed, rising from her bed to touch the place on your face where the shard of glass had been embedded. "How does that even happen?"

"I'm fine," you breathed, holding a hand under the line of blood. "We need to go see if everything and everyone is okay." The two agreed, allowing you to lead the way to the compound's 'breaker room' that actually consisted of technology so advanced that you'd never seen it before- just to keep the compound running. Tony Stark was certainly a frivolous man, something you'd come to learn about him in very little time.

"The, um, all of the lights are-" Natasha stumbled over her words, wondering how exactly she'd describe the situation.

"-out?" Wanda suggested, "Dead, maybe? I don't know what you'd call this, other than... well, weird."

It is weird, you thought, that a facility run by one of the most intelligent and wealthy men in the world would have a power surge that completely fucked the entire electrical grid. Something is going on, here.

You kept the thought to yourself; while you had trust and love in your heart for the friends you'd made, the part of you that was incapable of total trust remained. You simply shook your head. "Wanda," you said, "mind giving us a little light?"

"Sure."

The young girl's hands were enveloped in red, outlining the furniture as well as the walls in every hallway and room your trio passed through.

"Tony? Sam? Steve?" You called, praying for a response.

"Sorry to disappoint," a familiar voice rang out from around the corner, "but I think they're downstairs. Stark is trying to figure out what happened to the power." Wanda turned her hands towards the figure, causing only a slight stir of irritation in your chest when your eyes lit upon Bucky Barnes. The relationship you had with him, to say the least, was uncomfortable. Eventually, after he'd caught you in the Hydra facility, your memories came back. Remembering the fight was disturbing, in a way. When you saw him, all you could see was his look of murderous determination, his cold eyes, his lips turned downwards as he plunged a needle into your neck and your world went black.

Of course, you knew your luck; not many had encountered the Winter Solider and lived to tell the tale. He let you live. For that, you'd be forever grateful. Still, speaking to him gave you instinctual discomfort.

"Any idea what happened?" Nat was the first to speak, breaking the awkward silence.

"Nope. I'm just waiting it out."

"Great," you grumbled, "useless as always."

"We should split up," Wanda spoke over you, "the compound is large and it would take the four of us forever to find someone alone. Natasha and I will go to the north and west wings, Y/N and Bucky, go to the south and east wings."

"Why-" Bucky cut you off before you could even get a word out.

"Sounds good to me. Let's get goin', doll."

The only thing you'd managed to find out that, after the surge, the power was back on. After sweeping two floors, you and Bucky couldn't find anyone, much to your annoyance.

"We should have taken Wanda and Nat's wing," Bucky chuckled, pressing a button on the elevator.

"Guess so."

You tried your hardest to stay cold around him. He intimidated you, just a bit. You never quite knew how to act around him, for you were always scared to make a fool of yourself. As the elevator doors opened, he stepped to the side, permitting your entrance before his. Always a gentleman. Except for when he's kicking someone's ass and kidnapping them. You scoffed aloud at the thought, prompting Bucky to glance at you.

"What's up?"

"Nothing." Cold. Contained. The elevator doors closed, and as always, a feeling of panic set in. You hated tight spaces; the people you'd worked for before the team 'adopted' you were cold, even more so than the instructors of Natasha's childhood 'school,' the Red Room Academy. They would torture you, lock you in small closet-like rooms for days at a time, starving you and keeping you awake for hours on end. They needed you to be ruthless, emotionless, but through all of their efforts, you remained the person you were at your core. You kept your soul, something that many of the enhanced beings who they'd taken in couldn't do.

The organization seemed at first to be an outreach program for people like you. They'd take people in, love and nurture them for a few weeks, and once trust was gained, they would make sure you could never leave. The only time a person could leave the facility was for a mission. Thankfully, your first was your last. The Avengers rescued you; Bucky rescued you, a fact you often struggled to remind yourself of. You knew that his intentions were never to hurt you, but the feeling you got from looking into his eyes, the reminder of the pain he brought to you, was simply too much for you to bear. You didn't know if the Winter Soldier would ever be your friend.

You were pulled from your thoughts when the elevator stalled, causing you to grab on to a rail on one side. "What the fuck?" You hissed. The lights went out, and the elevator's movement halted completely. Suddenly, you felt as though you couldn't breathe. The darkness made it look like the walls were closing in on you. You choked as panic gripped you by the neck.

"Y/N? What's wrong?" Bucky stepped towards you, his brow twisted with concern. "Are you okay?"

"Stay back!" You yelled, your voice shaking, "Don't- don't hurt me!" A red light started flashing through the room, making the situation even worse.

His face fell as he realized how scared you were because of him. Bucky turned away, facing the wall. He had no idea what to do. He turned towards you once again, filled with distress when he saw that you were pressed into the corner of the elevator, cowering away from him. Without thought, he made his way to you, crouching so that the two of you were nearly level.

"Don't hurt me," you whimpered, hiding your face in the crook of your arm.

"I would never," he whispered softly. He grazed the outside of your arm with his flesh hand, hopeful that you'd look at him. You did; just a tiny peek. You didn't move any more than that or invite him to hold you, but your one eye held his gaze. His hand wrapped around your arm, gently tugging to see how you'd react.

Something in you triggered a wave of calm to flow through your body. Your arm relaxed as Bucky pulled you into his chest. You switched spots, his back in the corner. Yours was pressed against his chest as he rubbed circles into the nape of your neck in an attempt to calm you down. "Breathe, Y/N, just breathe. You're okay. I'm not gonna hurt you. I'm here. No one is going to hurt you."

"No one is going to hurt me," you shakily repeated, squeezing your eyes shut. Images of torture devices, the smell of blood clogging your senses, the red flashing lights, every single awful thing those people did to you was running a marathon through the lines of your brain. "No one is going to hurt me."

"That's right. You're okay." His hand migrated from your neck to waist as he pulled you closer. "You're safe."

"How-how do I stop thinking about it, Bucky?" It was one of the first times you addressed him by anything other than "Barnes," an action that wouldn't go unnoticed.

"Think about where you are now. You're in an elevator in one of the most secure places on Earth. It's stuck right now. That's all that's happening. You're in a stuck elevator. You're with a friend, now."

"We're... friends?" You asked. Happy to have found a distraction, Bucky chuckled.

"I would like for us to be. I don't think many enemies hold each other like this, so maybe we're on our way."

"Okay," you agreed, nodding with a minuscule smile on your face. "We can be friends, but I think we need to work some stuff out first."

"Deal."

Once you calmed down, Bucky still didn't move. He didn't want to until you gave the okay. He just held you, tracing shapes into your arms, determined to keep you comfortable. Eventually, you forgot about the red light, the instability, and you allowed your eyes to flutter shut.

#Bucky Barnes #MCU #mcu bucky #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes series

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whitewolfwave-blog · 6 years ago

Text

Maybe >> b.b. x fem!reader

Word count: 4004

Rating: NSFW (at all sis this shit is filthy)

Synopsis: You and Bucky share a bed every night to ward off your nightmares caused by Hydra. Do you really know each other, though?

Notes: hey uh this is my first smut so I'm sorry if it sucks

- - -

Every night, around 2 or 3, like clockwork, you'd rise from your bed in a cold sweat. Hair a mess, chest heaving, you'd leave your room in search of a sweet escape. Whether it be in the form of some clear, fiery liquid coating your throat and trailing into the pits of your stomach or the icy water of the compound swimming pool seeping into the clothes you hadn't bothered to take off, you found it. Distraction.

On this night, your lonesome plans would be foiled. A wave of exhaustion washed over you when the pads of your feet hit the cool wood floor. You closed your eyes, taking in the soothing feeling of being... grounded. Standing firmly. Almost robotically, you took a step forward, then another, and another, until you reached your door. Without making a noise, as you had many times before, you turned the handle, pulling up on the door to prevent any squeaking in the hinges.

You felt a strange, unfamiliar shock when, as you extended your leg into the hallway, a pair of arms wrapped around you. Before you could scream, or even say anything, your back was against the wall, a firm hand to your mouth. Crisp, blue eyes bore into yours, sending a hot sensation of embarrassment to your cheeks when you realized your captor was only Bucky Barnes. He removed his hand from your mouth, as well as the death grip on your wrists.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, "I didn't think you were... you."

You huffed, "You thought someone else was stepping out of my room at 3am? Wow. Truly in awe of the unbelievably intuitive winter sol-"

"Shut up," Bucky chuckled with a shake of his head, "what're you doing up, anyway?" His shoulders relaxed, making you conscious of the tension in your own body. You rested your body weight on the wall, trying to be less stiff.

"Bad dream. You?"

"Yeah, same here."

Bucky had the same sadness in his eyes that you did; a deep, traumatized, empty sadness that took him over and made him feel like nothing was real. The torture you'd both gone through in the hands of Hydra was unimaginable to most of the team, and because of that, you and Bucky grew close. You wouldn't dare say closer than Steve and himself, for he was the only exception, but in the compound, Bucky was your closest friend- maybe even in the entire world. He knew things without you having to verbally tell him, and vice versa. He knew about your nightmares, and you knew how to comfort him after one of his. "You uh," he started, lifting his right hand to scratch the back of his neck, "need any company?"

"Company, like...?"

"Do you," he cleared his throat, "do you want to share a bed? If you don't like it, we don't have to do it anymore. I just- I think that it might be easier to fall asleep, with someone to hold you."

You cocked an eyebrow. "We're holding each other, now?"

"Well," Bucky breathed, leaning in closer, his hand planting itself on the wall next to your head, "it might just be me, holding you. I don't mind either way, doll." You scoffed with a roll of your eyes. Bucky was almost always stupidly flirtatious. He'd bite his lip when you made eye contact, sure to try and hold it as long as he could. He would whisper innuendos in your ear, brush up against you just a bit too much, and now, he had you against a wall, his face mere inches from yours. He never failed to make your nerves catch fire, and you never failed to keep your feelings a secret. You'd laugh at him, roll your eyes, maybe, but more often than not, a flame would ignite between your legs at his words, his glances, his touch. If you let him know, though, your entire relationship could be sabotaged. This wonderful relationship you had, this understanding, could vanish in a matter of moments.

"Yeah, I guess. Come on." You took Bucky's flesh hand in your own, guiding him into your room that was only a couple of feet away from where you'd been standing. The walls, gray and bare, didn't feel as constricting as they had a few minutes prior.

"Your bed is tiny," he commented, "how are we supposed to fit on that thing together?" In truth, the mattress was small, but not too small for two people, right?

"You've never been in my room, huh?"

"Guess not."

As it turns out, you and Bucky could fit in your small bed- it was just a bit of a tight fit. With Bucky on his back, your head on his chest, and one of your legs thrown over his, there was just enough room. You found it so incredibly easy to fall asleep with the rise and fall of his each breath lulling you to your dreams. So, as every night came, as every nightmare came, Bucky came too. He held you as you slept, receiving an unprecedented amount of comfort from the girl in his arms. You'd wake every morning in the same position, a warm hand resting on the bare small of your back. He'd leave before the sun came up, and no one knew about your late night escapades.

It had been perfect, this arrangement between the ex-assassin and yourself. You giggled at times when you thought that, of all people, you felt safest with this man, who was seen as one of, if not the most, dangerous person on the planet. The chemistry between the two of you steadily rose until it was apparent to almost every person in the compound how comfortable you were with one another. You felt your cheeks heat up when you were making a cup of coffee, and you could feel Bucky reach above you to get a box of cereal from the cabinets above the counter. His stomach and chest pressed to your back, his left hand met your hip, and when he was closer to your ear, he leaned forward, whispering, "Good morning, doll. Love the pajamas."

It was silly, really, how seriously you took the compliment. After all, he'd seen you in the form-fitting tee and shorts combination dozens of times, in fact, he'd seen them on you the night before; Bucky's thoughts had simply come to mean the world to you.

You turned to him, biting your lip. "Not looking so bad yourself," you said with a nod. You leaned against the counter so that one of his legs was very nearly wedged in between yours. Bucky took a bit of initiative, stepping forward to move a lock of your hair from your face. His eyes raked up and down your body, from your beautiful, rich irises to your thighs, situated on either side of his one leg, and back again. He leaned even further forward, placing both hands on the counter behind you.

"How'd you sleep last night?" He asked, voice barely above a murmur. You smirked, knowing that he knew how well you'd slept.

"Pretty nicely. I was warm, comfy. I slept sound as ever." You whispered as he leaned even closer, the proximity rushing blood through your veins faster than ever.

"That's good, doll. You'll have to let me get in on some of that, seems I can never sleep."

"Oh? And why is that?"

His lips were inches from your own as he told you, "I'm always so distracted. I can't drift to sleep with all of these awfully inappropriate thoughts racing through my mind."

"Care to let me in on a few of them?" You were breathless, pupils dilated, pulse rapid. Bucky's devious smile was imprinted in your frontal lobe when, just as he was about to say more, you were interrupted.

"Whoa," the familiar voice of everyone's favorite redhead rang through the room, "what's going on in here?" In seconds, the bliss of Bucky's body being flush against yours was gone. You cleared your throat, turning to go back to your coffee, and Bucky went to the opposite counter so he could pour himself a bowl of cereal. As soon as he finished pouring it, without closing the box or putting the milk back, he left the room. With a sigh of exasperation, you did Bucky's unfinished tasks.

"So," Natasha spoke up once more, "how long has that been happening?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"You and Barnes, Y/N, don't play stupid."

"That's nothing, Nat. Just a bit of unresolved sexual tension, I guess."

"Oh-o, definitely more than a bit," Natasha chuckled, "I thought you were going to rip that tight little shirt off of him after being in the same room as you two for a few seconds. I can't imagine how you must feel."

"Nat, it's really not a big deal," you turned to face her for the first time since she'd walked in, you looked at her. Her short red hair was braided back in two french braids, something you'd never seen before. "Your hair hasn't ever been up like that- who did that?"

"Bucky did." This caused your brow to furrow with a new confusion; you had no idea Bucky could braid. You were hit, then, with the realization that, after all of those nights spent in the same bed, you didn't know Bucky. Perhaps you never would.

That night, you laid in the dark. Instead of finding Bucky, like you normally did, you stared at the ceiling. The simple fact that you didn't know Bucky could braid made you feel like a fraud; like you hadn't known the man in the first place. How could you sleep next to him every night, how could you harbor such feelings for him, and not know something so basic? You felt a frown set itself deep in your features as you turned onto your side. Such small things could be unbelievably upsetting from time to time.

You weren't alone for long, and you should have known he would do it. You should have known he would realize it was almost 3am, and he hadn't yet heard the soft thud of your footsteps outside of his door. He knew you, he knew what you needed, and he knew you needed him, but he didn't know why you didn't go looking for him. You winced ever so slightly when you heard the door open.

"Y/N?" He whispered, "You awake?"

Instead of answering verbally, you turned your head, looking at him from over your shoulder. From that point, you refused to look at him, keeping your eyes trained on the wall. You wanted to let your body melt into his when you felt his warmth spooning you, but you couldn't. Tonight, your routine felt wrong. When you felt the rough tips of his fingers dance across the skin of your neck, tracing soothing patterns that would normally put you to sleep, you felt discomfort.

"Bucky," you said, speaking at a normal volume.

"Yes?"

"I... do you know me?"

"What?" He laughed, and you even though you weren't facing him, you could see the crinkles in the corners of his eyes. You'd see them any time you closed your eyes, along with his smile, and the hair falling into his face, and his 5 o'clock shadow. You could see, at any given moment, whether or not he was there, the outline of his features in pale moonlight, and as you pondered this innate ability to see James Buchanan Barnes regardless of your time or place, the more guilt consumed you.

"Bucky," you repeated, turning so that your face was as close to his as it had been earlier that day, "do you know me?"

"Well, it would be a little awkward, doll, if I was just layin' here-"

"Bucky, it's not funny. I mean it. What do you even know about me?"

"Well," his voice softened, his right hand caressing your side to stop at your hip, "I know you're strong. I know you care a little too much, and you worry about things you can't control. I know that laying here with you every night makes me feel safe. I know you're beautiful. I know you're way more technologically aware than I am, y'know, given our age gap," the last part was said with a grin. "I know that I wouldn't be anywhere but here, in the dark, on your bed, if given the chance. I know that you're not scared of me like the others are- in fact, I know you trust me- and that alone lets me trust you. I might not know your favorite color or your parents' names, but I know you. I do."

And just like that, you forgot why you were concerned or upset in the first place. Just like that, the only things in the universe that deserved every speck of your attention were Bucky's lips. Just like that, before you could stop yourself, you brought the man forward to capture them in yours. His hand migrated from your hip to the crook of your leg, pulling it over his hip as he found his place between your legs. His bionic hand weaved into your hair, holding you closer than ever as your lips melded together. His tongue prodded at your lips, prompting you to part your jaws, granting his entrance. The temperature of the room seemed to rise with each moment that the pair of you were entangled. Soon enough, you switched positions. Bucky was still between your legs, only then, they were open, and you were on your back.

"Oh, doll, you have no idea how long I've waited for this," he groaned, tugging at the bottom of the pajama shirt covering your chest. You raised your arms above your head, allowing him to pull the shirt over your head. He shook his head when he noticed that you hadn't worn a bra to bed, almost overwhelmed at the sight in front of him. "God, you're perfect." You could disagree with his comment. When you took off your shirt, all you could see was a stray stretch mark here and there, or the pudge of your belly. Bucky, however, saw a long-awaited sight that brought him pure euphoria. In his mind, every inch of you was beautiful, because it was just another part of you. He was determined to show you how beautiful you were as he began to pepper light kisses along your jaw, becoming more insistent when he reached your collarbones. His soft, open-mouthed kisses became harsher as he bit down, sucking on your sensitive skin, sure to leave marks the next day.

Bucky's hands cupped your breasts as he worked his way down with his mouth, stopping at each one to give it extra attention. His eyes flitted up to watch you squirm when he wrapped his lips around one of your nipples, flicking his tongue on the bud to elicit a sweet moan from the back of your throat. Wishing for nothing but to hear the noise again, he switched, using his hand on one breast and his tongue on the other. When the stimulation wasn't enough anymore, you bucked your hips into his, the small athletic shorts you were wearing not doing much in terms of dulling the friction. "B-Bucky," you mewled, your hips pathetically searching for more.

"What do you want, doll?" His voice was deeper than it had been, an indication of how turned on he was. "You want my tongue somewhere else? You want my cock?" With those words, the hand on your breast moved to your clothed heat, drawing patterns over the vulnerable area. You only moaned in response, distress flooding your mind when he removed his hand. "I need you to tell me what you want, baby doll. Where do you want me? What do you want me to do?"

"I-I want your tongue," you cried out, hoping your response was substantial enough.

"Oh, do you?" His cheeky smile returned, a tinge of dark intentions on the corners of his lips. Instead of crawling down the bed, he threw your legs over his shoulders, changing your positioning again so that, while you lied on your back, he could remain on his knees. With his face level to your heat, he licked a long, slow stripe up your inner thigh. "This where you want it?"

"No!" You were becoming agitated with his teasing, although it had barely begun. "You know where I want it, James, don't toy with me."

"Aw, but it's so fun," he drawled, nipping at your opposite thigh. "I could do this all day- or rather, all night. Would you like that?"

"No, not at all!" You whined, painstakingly bucking your hips for any type of friction.

"Hm, at the same time, I'd love to get these off..." Bucky trailed off, his right middle finger slipping under the waistband of your shorts.

"Please." You tried to be firm, failing when the word left your lips as a whine. With a devilish smile, he complied, lifting your legs over his head to aggressively pull the shorts off, staring intently at your white cotton panties adorned with a small baby pink bow.

"These are adorable. Hope you won't miss them too much." His voice came out as a growl.

"What do you-" before you could finish, your mouth fell open with a gasp as Bucky took the sides of the panties in either hand and pulled outwards, ripping them right off of you. "James!"

"What? I'll buy you a new pair," he chuckled, his face nearing your heat once more. "Now, what was it you wanted?" You huffed in exasperation, growing tired of his game. You didn't want to satisfy him with a plead for attention, you wanted contact and you wanted it as soon as possible. Your hand fisted into his soft brown locks as you gently nudged his head forward, hoping he would get the message.

"Tempting, doll, but I can't do anything until you tell me what you want." His words were said with a patronizing emphasis that irritated you to no end.

"God damn it, Buck, if you don't stop being so difficult, I'll- I'll-"

"You'll what?" His menacing tone sent blood rushing to your exposed heat. "I'm the one who decides whether or not you cum tonight, doll."

"Then make me, James." With no hesitation, he brought his mouth to your clit, deciding that he'd build up to your climax as slowly as he could. At first, he kitten-licked your clit, pleasing you only to the point that you wanted more. You expressed your need by squeezing your thighs, hopeful that the pressure on his head would urge him to do more. You sighed in relief when the tiny licks with the tip of his tongue turned into long, rhythmic strokes against your clit, earning moans and thrusts of your pelvis. The fire-hot pleasure building up in your core was stretched taut like a rubber band, and as you felt you were reaching your breaking point, Bucky slid two metal fingers into your entrance, holding your hips down with his opposite hand. The coolness of the metal was quick to disappear, and all you could feel was the familiar buildup of your orgasm. He slid his two fingers in and out gently, but quickly, sure to hit your g-spot along the way.

"Come on, baby doll," he lifted his head to groan, "cum for me." As soon as his words were finished, his tongue went back to its work on your heat. Your moans almost amounted to a shriek as your back arched and you released on Bucky's mouth.

"Fuck," you whispered as he laid your lower half back on the mattress, the glint of lust in his eyes unmistakeable. It was only then, as you watched Bucky pull the black shirt over his head and untie his sweatpants, that you realized he'd been fully clothed the entire time.

"Wait, fuck, do you have a condom?" He interrupted your thoughts. There he was, boxers being the only thing preventing him from being fully exposed, and yet, the night may be over already.

"I uh, no. No, I don't."

"Fuck," he grumbled, "I don't either- I didn't really think this was going to happen."

"I'm- I'm clean," you stated desperately, "and I'm on the pill."

"Are you sure you're okay with that? I mean, I'm clean too, but-"

"Buck," you interrupted him, "just, fuck me. Please." He took his lip between his teeth for a moment, memorizing the scene in front of him. Bucky was scared, for a moment, that things between you would change after this. He knew he couldn't dwell on his worries for long, as he could see your impatience growing from the pleading look on your face.

You watched with intent as Bucky pulled his boxers off, his cock springing up in its glory. He caressed your face with his bionic hand, his flesh one wrapped around his length in preparation. With a few pumps, he guided himself into you. The stretch gave you a bit of discomfort first, but as he allowed you time to adjust, the discomfort faded. He leaned into you as he slid his length out halfway, only to piston his hips back into yours. Soon, he fell into a steady rhythm, your combined pants and moans filling the room. "God, you feel so fucking good, doll," he groaned in your ear, angling his hips upwards as he gripped your hips, his rhythm speeding up. The angle he'd changed to let the tip of his cock hit your g-spot, causing you to let out a string of shuddering curses and moans. Your eyes screwed shut, overcome with pleasure. "Open your eyes, baby. I want you to look at me." You forced your eyelids to open, almost collapsing on the spot at the sight of Bucky, his hips crashing into yours, his cock buried deep inside you. The sound of skin on skin burned into your brain. One of your hands found his, wrapping around his wrist.

"I-I want to-"

"Cum?" Bucky breathed, "again? Getting a little greedy, now, are we, doll?"

"Please," you whined for what felt like the dozenth time that night. Bucky's lips stretched into a smirk as he rubbed tight circles over your clit, your walls quivering around his length.

"Oh, yes, good girl," he murmured, "let it out. Let go." With his words of encouragement, the coil in the pit of your stomach released, pleasure exploding in your loins. Bucky rode out your orgasm, using it to get closer to his own. He watched with a hunger as you writhed underneath him, his hips losing their rhythm, falling into an erratic stutter. Before he could finish, he pulled out, shocking you as a hot, thick liquid coated your stomach. In silence, he rose from the bed, walking to your attached bathroom in search of a towel. He returned with a warm, wet washcloth, gently running it across the soft flesh of your abdomen.

"You did so well, doll," he whispered, leaning down to kiss your forehead. Your wide, tired eyes gazed up at him in wonderment, confused and delighted as to how you'd gotten yourself in this place. Your thoughts continued as Bucky cleaned himself off, and eventually, returned to his place next to you, his arms wrapped tightly around you as always, except on this night, neither of you bothered to put on pajamas; you lay there together, naked, vulnerable, and nonetheless, feeling safer than ever.

"Buck?" You whispered.

"Yeah?"

"I didn't know you could french braid."

The deep vibration of his laugh shook your mattress, bringing a small smile to your face. "There's a lot of stuff we don't know about each other, doll."

"Well, maybe that could change."

"Maybe it could."

#bucky barnes smut #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #mcu #mcu bucky #i bled for this #please like and reblog #winter soldier smut

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