#beefy bucky is coming back
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he's so pretty
#giggling and twirling my hair#this was such a great serotonin boost fr#beefy bucky is coming back#🥰#sebastian stan
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License to Kill
Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Reader
Summary: Marital bliss becomes a bloody massacre within hours of your wedding. Bucky has run the gamut of organized crime from gunrunning to public extortion, but an attempt on your life is a whole different ballgame. A honeymoon-turned-manhunt has Bucky out for blood.
Warnings: 18+. Unprotected p-in-v. Semi-public sex. Beefy, mob boss Bucky really wants to give you a baby. Praise kink. Size kink. Facefucking. Sex on a private jet. Attempted murder. Arms trafficking. Guerrilla warfare.
Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4
Any postnuptial banquet was bound to be the talk of Santorini when a groom arrived beaten half to death.
At least that was what you’d told yourself, what had plagued your mind for hours before the start of brunch, and what Bucky presently refused to acknowledge with so much as a bat of his eye or a word spoken in between.
“You worry too much,” he said as he sheathed himself inside you for the third time that morning.
Bucky seized your throat in one hand and tilted your chin to make sure you were capable of eye contact while he fucked you in front of the mirror. It didn’t seem to bother him at all that the face in his own reflection was bruised, bloodied, and sewn up like a patchwork quilt behind you.
Hazards of the job, he’d said.
Three masked assailants breaking into your villa the first night of honeymooning? Customary. Being yanked out of bed and made to kneel as your husband took the beating of a lifetime just minutes after consummating your marriage? More common than you would think.
Bucky hadn’t even blinked when he got pistol whipped by a gold-plated Beretta. Didn’t flinch when he was held to a wall and pummeled like a freestanding punch bag.
Almost smiled when he took a hard right hook to the nose and felt a torrent of blood flood out of his nostrils.
If anyone were to be accused of behaving too calmly in a home invasion, it would be Bucky Barnes. It seemed as though he’d seen this all before and had no qualms about getting the shit kicked out of him every now and then. Why he hadn’t so much as lifted a finger to fight back was still beyond your comprehension, though.
At length, he tightened his grip on your neck and tried to smile, his upper lip slashed in two and bruised a grim, violet hue.
“Who’s my girl?” he murmured an inch from your ear.
You whined when he delivered a particularly hard thrust, both of your hands flying to the mirror to steady yourself as he pounded you from behind.
“I-I am,” you whimpered.
The stretch was still something you were getting used to, but now Bucky knew just how to spread you open without making it hurt. He’d glide a thick finger between your folds, slide it down to your clit, and leave it there as long as you’d let him, rubbing quick circles while you bucked and moaned under his touch. And, in spite of all his cuts and bruises, your husband made sure to kiss your shoulder every now and then to let you know he still loved you—even if he was fucking you like he didn’t.
Bucky trailed his lips behind your ear and watched you writhe in time with every stroke he gave. Pressed his face close to yours, watched a desperate, fucked-out expression take over your features, and smiled to himself knowing that no one but him got to see you like this.
“Who likes getting stuffed full of this cock?” he taunted.
“I do.”
“Who loves making daddy feel this good?”
“I do.”
He never thought the sound of your vows could be repeated out loud in such an obscene way—his sweet bride bent in half with a thick, throbbing cock wedged between her legs—but he loved it nonetheless.
Bucky was rutting his hips at a breakneck pace and holding your head to the mirror like he’d never let go. Your climax was quickly coming close into view, and you felt your toes curl in the hardwood floor beneath them.
Suddenly, the chirp of a ringtone diverted your attention.
Bucky brought his phone to his ear as he continued to pound you mercilessly.
“Yeah, Steve?”
The mob boss’s business never took a break, it seemed.
“So what?”
“Yeah, no, I heard you the first time.”
“Well, I’m plowing my wife right now, can it wait?”
Your cheeks warmed with embarrassment at Bucky’s blunt choice of words. You saw his brow pinch behind you, his thrusts getting faster and sloppier, and in spite of the distraction, you sensed he was getting close too.
You yourself were right on the brink. Your gaze met Bucky’s in the mirror with a soft, pleading look, and before you knew it, your husband was bidding an abrupt farewell to his friend and chucking his phone to the side.
“Ready to cum for me, honey?”
You whimpered and nodded.
“Alright then,” Bucky said with a near-expectant look, weaving the fingers of one hand into your hair and pulling it back, tight, “Cum all over daddy’s cock.”
With a shriek you feared might carry throughout the whole banquet hall, you finally reached your peak and released around Bucky’s length, tears springing to your eyes as you closed them tight and moaned his name.
And, ever the cheeky fuck, Bucky leaned right in and kissed the sides of your face to collect all the moisture he could—‘Shit, honey, you taste as good as you look’—while he smirked. Would’ve grinned even bigger if he wasn’t so overcome with pleasure; but, as it was, he couldn’t keep from blowing his load just seconds after the last spasms of your orgasm. Bucky leaned over your torso and squeezed your body tight to his, fucking his cum deep inside you as far as it could possibly go.
For a few, dizzying moments, the man’s mind wandered to more primal thoughts of making it stick, knocking you up, and Bucky had to clench his jaw hard to suppress the groans that were threatening to spill through his teeth. Every time he fucked you, it was like something just clicked; he couldn’t rid the thought of giving you a baby.
But no, for now, the two of you were still on wedding time; before you could jet off to your real honeymoon destination—someplace in the Caribbean, if Bucky remembered correctly—your mother had insisted that you host one post-wedding event that day: a brunch.
Naturally, that meant you were obliged to serve a four-course meal on the terrace of the Canaves Oia Hotel.
The mother of the bride had been one hell of a staunch advocate for keeping this wedding party going as long as possible, and who was Bucky to tell her no? He reasoned he would have plenty of time to get you pregnant after all the wedding festivities had ended, so he didn’t mind.
At present, you tugged your panties and your dress back into place with a wince.
“I think you displaced my cervix, James.”
Bucky couldn’t deny he felt the smallest twinge of pride seeing you walk a little funny to collect the rest of your belongings and attempt to freshen up. It also gave him the perfect excuse to scoop you back up in his arms and pretend to be apologetic about your present dilemma.
“Did I really?” he asked as you giggled and tried to swat him away, “I’m awfully sorry, Mrs. Barnes.”
“Like hell you are.”
With Bucky still draped over your body, proffering his apologies again and again as he assailed your face with tiny kisses, you’d barely made it two feet toward the door before you collapsed against a table and almost toppled a centerpiece. The pair of you would be expected outside any minute now, where the rest of your post-wedding party was likely trickling in and wondering where the hell the bride and groom had gone, but Bucky seemed adamant on keeping you to himself a little while longer.
That was until the back exit swung on its hinges and a familiar, frazzled groomsman stumbled in.
“Can you horndogs hurry the hell up?!”
So Sam had heard you after all.
You just might’ve blushed if you weren’t being pushed out the door a second later, the hurried, chiding tone of your husband’s friend ringing low in your ears.
“Your old man’s ready to hit the roof,” he mumbled to Bucky, “Won’t start drinking until you two show face.”
“Probably still thinks my bride escaped in the middle of the night,” Bucky mused, flitting a look to you.
The man behind rolled his eyes and continued to usher you both outside. Sam Wilson knew exactly what had happened last night; he’d been the one to bring in the cavalry to save you both from imminent death, after all.
As you had come to find out, Sam wasn’t just a friend of your husband’s but also a close associate of sorts—the kind that would wait in the wings and do whatever it took to keep Bucky safe. When the wait staff at the villa hadn’t been able to reach you for room service delivery last night, reporting some ‘strange sounds’ inside, Mr. Wilson had sprung into action. Called the rest of your husband’s entourage and was up to your room in minutes, where they’d dealt a swift, and final, blow to your attackers. You hadn’t asked many questions after—just thanked him. Profusely.
“You look like hell,” the man observed with a sidelong glance in his friend’s direction.
“Really? I feel great,” Bucky replied.
The three of you weaved through a crowd of partygoers—every single one of whom, without exception, stopped and stared at your husband’s mangled face as he passed—and you started to chew the inside of your cheek. People were gawking, talking amongst themselves as they wondered aloud what the hell could’ve happened to the groom overnight. You felt their stares turn to you in a mixture of pity and reproach, and you wanted to hide.
“Ja-ames!” a sing-song voice trilled across the way.
You, Bucky, and Sam all stopped in your tracks to regard the duo that was making their swift approach over.
Bucky’s mom and dad.
As the older couple drew near, you half-expected to see them take on the same wan, horror-stricken look worn by all those around you, but to your surprise, they didn’t.
In fact, they didn’t bat an eyelid. Seeing their son’s face all gnarled and bloody barely even registered.
“Good, you’re here! The photographers just arrived.” Bucky’s mother swept you into her arms for a brief embrace before shooting her son a frown. Your husband, in turn, offered her an apologetic peck on the cheek.
“Sorry, ma. We got caught up,” he said.
“Sure looks like it.”
That came from the elder Mr. Barnes, who had stopped to give his son a quick once-over. He looked amused.
“Get in a fight with a grizzly last night?” he quipped.
“Three, actually,” Sam answered for Bucky, who was already grinning from ear-to-ear—or as much as his facial lacerations would allow him.
You saw father and son exchange a brief, knowing look, before it was extinguished just as fast as it had come. Clearly, some sort of understanding had passed between them, and the old patriarch seemed pleased. Proud, even. You couldn’t begin to imagine why.
“The bruising shouldn’t be too hard to edit out of the wedding pictures,” Bucky’s mother turned to you as she started to lead the group away, speaking in a matter-of-fact tone, “It’s those damn lesions on his face that always give us trouble.”
She spoke so coolly about the trauma done to her son it damn near chilled you to the bone. You never thought the wife of a mobster would be oblivious to all the violence, but to talk as though this were just another day in the life as far as brutal beatings went was a little unnerving.
You strolled along and silently wondered what the fuck was wrong with this family. Then you realized, slowly, that this was your family now. Your stomach twisted.
When you got to the garden where the photographers were stationed, you saw your parents waiting, enrapt.
And, in a matter of seconds, you watched their expressions morph from exuberance to confusion to outright trepidation. Your father was quick to look away, but your mother clearly couldn’t be bothered to stop ogling Bucky’s gruesome appearance. She forced a tight-lipped smile at the very last second and stretched her arms out to you as the five of you approached.
“You’re glowing, my dear.”
She hugged you and, over your shoulder, tried to mask a discomfited look.
Your mother and father exchanged pleasantries with the rest of the group but seemed loath to linger on Bucky for more than a minute. Like they couldn’t quite tell whether the honeymoon beatdown was fair game for discussion.
“Places, people!”
The photographers were lined up like a flock of paparazzi. Each standing, crouching, squatting with their cameras in their hands, trying to get just the right angle.
The person in charge quickly busied herself with directing and adjusting every one of your positions before the pictures were taken. Telling Bucky’s father to straighten his tie, your mother to brighten her smile, the bride to tilt her shoulders just a little bit more, and Bucky, would you please stop groping your wife?
That last command had come from his mother, actually. Bucky had been palming your ass above your dress, and his mom couldn’t stand the thought of one camera capturing such crude behavior.
“My hand slipped,” Bucky retorted, much to the amusement of a few photographers.
You and his mother gave him identical admonitory looks, but it was you who was close enough to say something.
Just when you opened your mouth to speak, though, an odd sense stopped you on a dime.
There was a warmth. In your panties. Then a slow and silent oozing sensation. You squeezed your thighs tight together and, instinctively, lowered your hand to your stomach, as if that would have any chance of stopping it.
A smirk tugged at Bucky’s lips just as the lead photographer told you all to smile and hold it.
“My cum dripping out already?” he whispered, low as he’d ever spoken but still too loud for you to bear. His parents were literally standing right there.
“Shut. Up.” You replied through gritted, smiling teeth.
“Chin to me, Mrs. Barnes,” the lady in charge called out.
You did as you were told, and Bucky’s hand on your side pressed the flesh ever so slightly.
A series of shuttering sounds, then another directive.
“Think it’ll stay in your panties?” Bucky managed delicately under his breath.
You didn’t respond. At length, his seed was seeping out of your underwear. You bared an even brighter smile for the cameras and tried not to flinch when he squeezed you again.
“Feel it sliding down your thighs?”
“Eyes forward, Mr. Barnes. Head up, and—here, please.”
The man could barely peel his gaze, much less his hands, from your body. He stroked your hip with his thumb. Then, without warning, that same hand slid down to your rear and pushed into the fabric. You sucked in a breath.
“Bucky.”
“What?”
“Behave,” you hissed, and from the corner of your eye you could’ve sworn you saw your mother turn her head.
Unfortunately for you, your husband would do no such thing. He just moved his hand even lower down your back and brushed the space around that spot with the tips of his fingers. You felt a shiver pass over you, along with a whole legion of goosebumps spreading fast across the skin.
If you weren’t on camera and surrounded by family, you probably would’ve liked to smack him upside the head.
As the cameras continued to fire away, Bucky’s touch trailed down to the outline of your panties through your dress and started rubbing small circles over the area.
“Now just the bride and groom!”
The rest of your family members stepped to the side, and it was only you and Bucky before the cameras now. Still smiling like bright, shiny dolls and communicating like ventriloquists, your lips barely moved as you spoke.
“How ‘bout I push it back in?”
“Barnes, I will kill you.”
“Now kiss!”
At the direction of the lead photographer, you kissed your husband and felt a mixture of lust, hate, and love swell up inside of you. When you pulled apart, it was the latter of these three that was searing hot in your veins.
“I love you,” Bucky murmured with a grin.
“I love you, too.”
The rest of the morning passed away in much the same fashion—being pulled from place to place, person to person, while your filthy-minded husband kept whispering in your ear all the depraved things he was planning to do to you once he got you alone. It was romantic, in a way; just terrible for your poor panties.
You reluctantly mingled and laughed with some of the most boring people you thought you’d ever met in your life—though perhaps you were a touch too horny to make a fair appraisal—and gradually, family and friends pulled you and Bucky further and further apart until you were just being carted around like show dogs and forced to hold the same conversation over and over again.
“You look stunning.”
“Buck’s a lucky guy, I’ll tell you that.”
“Are you planning on having kids any time soon?”
You just smiled, nodded, and didn’t have the guts to tell them that Bucky’s baby batter was baking inside you right now. That would’ve been a fun one to watch the reactions from your uptight, intrusive relatives, though.
And speaking of Bucky, where the fuck had he gone?
Just twenty minutes ago he’d sworn he would have you bent over one of the hotel balconies overlooking the Aegean Sea, and now he was nowhere to be found.
Your parents were currently preoccupied with their second helpings of spanakopita, your in-laws draining mojitos like water, and Sam, like Bucky, completely MIA. No one else had seen hide nor hair of your husband in a little while, and frankly, your legs were growing tired of looking.
You let out a small sigh of relief when you saw Bucky sitting a ways away on the terrace with Sam and Steve huddled on either side of him. They looked to be deep in discussion.
Steve, Stevie, Rogers, or, simply, your husband’s second in command, seemed strangely out of sorts as he clenched a fist and said something close to Bucky’s face.
You decided to let the three of them hash it out and to take a rain check on that balcony rendezvous for now.
At any rate, a pack of Pall Malls was calling your name.
You would fully concede this was a filthy habit you never should have started—like most fun things in life—but the reprieve of a nicotine buzz was too tempting to refuse. You grabbed your clutch and took off toward the far end of the lawn, set for a small alcove apart from the party.
You slipped the lighter and cigarettes from your bag as you walked. The scent of pure salt and sea foam greeted your senses as soon as you drew close to the spot—less than a stone’s throw away from the ocean.
Your hands had jammed the cancer stick in your mouth before your mind could make a single word of protest. You brought the lighter to life in your right palm and raised the flame to your cigarette until the end was lit.
Then you inhaled. Exhaled. Hoped no one would see you. You fanned the smoke from your face every so often.
You’d taken up residence on a bench just shy of the beach, and finally, you could stretch your legs and rest.
Maybe indulge in some disgusting thoughts about your husband while you were at it.
If you’d told yourself just twenty-four hours ago that your mind and body would be on the fritz craving Bucky’s touch, you wouldn’t have believed it. If someone had said sex, and cumming around someone you loved, was a worthwhile experience, you probably would’ve told them they were full of shit. But here you were, splayed out on a bench by the shoreline thinking of nothing but the way your husband’s cock felt inside you. Feeling his seed dried on your thigh and aching for a fourth helping.
You felt pathetic. Maybe you were.
In any case, you didn’t really care.
You brought the near-spent cigarette up to your lips for the last couple puffs. When you’d plucked it back out, you heard someone clear their throat behind you.
Bucky! Your lust-addled brain all but squealed.
You turned much quicker than you meant and nearly jumped in your skin to see who was standing there.
A grinning, bright-eyed blond.
In a panic, you flicked your cigarette over your shoulder and forced a smile.
“Hi.”
“Howdy.”
Okay, John Wayne, what the fuck? The man sounded, and looked, like something straight out of a western film.
“No need to stop on my account,” he tipped his chin toward the cigarette on the ground, “I won’t snitch.”
His smile took on a shade of condescension, but the face seemed friendly enough. Then, to your surprise, he reached into his back pocket and retrieved something small and silver from it. He held it out to you.
“Courtesy of your husband,” he said.
You frowned. A flask?
“It’s not even noon,” you answered.
“Bucky wanted me to relay the message that your mom invited a boatload more folks, and it don’t seem they’re fixin’ to leave anytime soon. Said you might need this.”
Gingerly, you accepted the gift and unscrewed the cap. You almost gagged when you got a whiff of pure vodka.
“Fuckin’ A,” you coughed, “What’s this, nail polish remover?”
“Stolichnaya. Can’t talk shit until you’ve tried it.”
Your eyes were still watering from the pungent stench of 80 proof spirits when you saw the man’s outstretched arm again—this time, to shake your hand.
“Joey, by the way.”
You shook his hand and introduced yourself as well, blinking back a few tears.
“You’re a friend of my husband’s?” you asked.
“From the service, yeah. We go way back.”
You couldn’t help but raise both brows in question.
“The service,” you repeated.
“Russian Armed Forces,” Joey smiled.
And when the hell did Bucky plan on telling you he was a former foreign operative? You stared at the man before you in a medley of confusion and disbelief. Surely the thick Southern drawl had to mean he was joking.
“Sorry—I thought you knew,” he said sheepishly.
Your husband’s old comrade seemed genuinely contrite, blushing a shade of pink as he turned his gaze from you. You quickly regained your composure and flashed him a smile, insisting it was fine, just surprising to you is all.
“Perks of arranged marriage,” you said, “We’re wed for life and I don’t even know the guy’s job title.”
That earned a laugh from the tall, gaunt figure in front of you. His features visibly relaxed, and he wasn’t smiling so smugly anymore. He motioned toward the bench.
“You mind?”
“Not at all.”
You fished for a cigarette as Joey sat down beside you. When he’d taken a seat, you offered it to him, and he politely accepted.
With time, the two of you got to smoking and joking around with a little more ease. You didn’t normally get to see that happen—rarely seizing the opportunity to make friends of near-strangers—but this weekend had already presented a bevy of firsts. What harm could a quick smoke break with Bucky’s old friend possibly do?
You found the man to be quick-witted and charming, if not marred by the slightest stain of conceit under the surface. He was objectively handsome: all cool, clean features with an unblemished demeanor and a set of brown eyes so light they almost appeared the color of honey in the sun. The only imperfection to be detected was a skewed, razor-thin scar on his chin. You weren’t ashamed to admit he might’ve been your type maybe four or five years, and several degrees of naïveté, earlier. But you had Bucky now; not even the most sublime, finely-chiseled Adonis could set your sights off of him.
You continued to smoke and shoot the shit.
“So you’re a Puritan, then?” Joey said at length.
“Huh?” You leaned back to stretch.
“You haven’t touched that flask.”
You glanced down at the silver canteen between you. You picked it up.
“Haven’t been into straight liquor since college,” you shrugged.
“But it’s your wedding weekend,” Joey smirked, “Think it says somewhere in the rule book you’ve gotta be hammered the whole time.”
“Does it? I must’ve missed that one,” you hummed.
Rather than answer you verbally, Bucky’s old friend opted to snag the flask from your fingers and unscrew the top himself. Made an unusually bold move and took your chin in his other hand.
“Open.”
“No!”
You bared a tight smile to be polite, but inside, you were more than a little put off by his behavior. Maybe this was some stupid rite of passage into their ‘brotherhood.’ You had to assume he was just being friendly.
“C’mon. Quit bitchin’ and open up,” he chuckled, pinching your face even tighter.
That left an even more sour taste in your mouth. You jerked your head to the left and were just about to inform the man it’d cost him nothing to fuck off and stay off, when a voice broke out through the foliage behind you.
“Honey? Hon, you there?”
Immediate relief at hearing your husband’s voice.
You craned your neck to look around.
“I’m here, Bucky!” You waved an arm to try and get his attention, wherever he was.
It took him a second, but shortly, he appeared on the other side of some trees. He had a stern, if not slightly sallow, look on his face as he made his way over.
You turned back to Joey but found that he’d vanished. Your eyes scanned the beach, the lawn, even the bushes behind you and couldn’t find a trace of him anywhere. All that was left was the flask.
“Bucky, I just—”
“We need to go,” your husband cut in.
His narrowed, steely gaze sent a jolt of apprehension through you.
“Go wh—”
“Now, baby, please. I’ll tell you in the car.”
Your face dropped.
“We’re leaving?”
Shortly, Steve trotted over. Bleak as you’d ever seen him with his hands balled in fists at his sides. And a deep-set scowl.
“Whole fuckin’ swarm of ‘em now,” he pronounced.
Bucky didn’t wait to hear another word. He just grabbed your hand and joined his friend sprinting back up the lawn. You could barely keep apace with their steps and, still clinging to Bucky, almost tripped and stumbled.
“Get the fuck up,” Steve spat.
You tensed. For a second, your feet scarcely moved of their own accord as you trailed behind Bucky and felt a stabbing feeling in your gut. Bucky’s best man had surely been a little rough around the edges before, but never this needlessly cruel. What did you do?
Your husband delivered an uncharacteristically gruff shove to the man’s shoulder and made sure he felt it.
“Don’t you start this shit again,” he said, “Lay off.”
Steve ignored him entirely and took the lead around the hotel’s perimeter. You glanced to the throngs of partygoers still scattered along the veranda and saw similar looks of disquiet and alarm all around.
Just when a dozen different questions of what was going on, where were they taking you, and why the fuck did everyone look so afraid bubbled to the tip of your tongue, a thunderous sound brought you to a standstill.
At the opposite end of the plaza, a cluster of tents, tables, and catering stations all splintered apart in a single, headlong explosion. A bright red column of fire shot up toward the sky, and following its ascent rose a wave of shrill and horrified screams alongside it. A barrage of gunfire rained over the crowd, and before you could even spare a look toward its source, Bucky yanked you flat on the ground. Your hands and knees were shredded across pavement, had less than a second to register the pain, and were shortly made to snake along concrete and glass toward the garden down below.
You crawled, then crouched, then bounded down the lawn following Bucky and Steve like a bat out of hell. Another explosion sounded nearby—this time much closer, sending a shower of flames sailing through the air and all over—and whole droves of people just dropped. Facedown in the grass and covered in glass. Bucky clamped your hand in his own with a force that could’ve snapped it in two, but you didn’t blink. All of your senses were kicked into overdrive and focalized, unflinching, on the sight of more carnage than you could comprehend.
“Here!” Steve called presently.
He caught sight of a jet black sedan at the edge of the lawn and held a hand up to Bucky. A set of keys were promptly pelted into his grasp, and the three of you closed in on the car, quick, without another word.
Bucky tore the back door open and practically flung you inside. He primed himself to climb in right after, when a set of footsteps and a shout held him locked in place.
“Hangar’s clear.”
Sam, by the sound of it.
He jumped in shotgun while Steve seized the wheel. Bucky hadn’t gotten the back door so much as halfway shut before the engine roared to life and the car lurched ahead. Not thinking, you grabbed hold of a seatbelt, but Bucky was quick to pull you in and jerk you down.
You weren’t sure what you’d been expecting then, but it certainly wasn’t your husband’s weight crushing you from above as he pinned you to the floor of the car.
This wasn’t the seamless, smart exit that the heroes of the action-packed stories always had. Bucky didn’t hold you tight in his arms or cradle your head to his chest. He just draped the weight of his whole body over yours and begged you strenuously not to move or make a sound. By the looks of it, too, the car was tearing up the turf of the lawn and anything else that happened to cross its path; there was no rhyme or reason to Steve’s driving, it seemed, just frantic desperation and a will not to die.
Minutes, seconds, sights, and sounds—or what little of the world you could grasp from your cowered position—all bled together in a haze. Your pulse leapt and throbbed between your ears, and little more could be heard above that sound apart from the thrum of Bucky’s own heart, the thunder of gunfire, and the wail of sirens, coming low and faint and far too late to make much difference now.
You pressed your nose to the floor and got a dizzying whiff of nylon and bleach. Would’ve like to retch but gritted your teeth instead, lying in silence and wondering without humor if the splinters, the soot, or the blood would be hardest to wash out of your white satin dress.
The price of admission to board Bucky’s Boeing 787 came surprisingly cheap: just sit back and be ‘pregnant.’
You’d been flanked by medics as soon as you arrived at the hangar—a place tucked away just a few short miles from the hotel, where Bucky kept his aircraft for speedy escapes, apparently—and had been carried onto a jet. You didn’t squirm or protest, just hung limply in their arms and let them tend to you however they needed.
After all, you looked like fucking Carrie White on prom night: coated in blood and stiff as a board. Sitting with a thousand-yard stare and a frozen, muted expression as you tried, and failed, to process what had just happened.
You watched Bucky kneel down in front of you and hardly saw him at all. You sensed him stroke your hair but felt it from a place somewhere far outside your body. Bizarre was an understatement. All you could do was blink.
“It’s not— not her blood, is it?” your husband stammered, gesturing toward your dress.
“Some of it,” one nurse answered quietly.
Aw, hell. Bucky squatted on the floor and slotted himself between your knees, trying to get as close as possible so he could make you say something, even just see him. One of the attendants raised a warning look and placed a hand on his shoulder, which he shrugged off in a second.
“She’s not looking at me,” Bucky’s lip visibly trembled as he drew you closer, “Honey, I’m here— I’m right h—”
“She’s in shock.” Another voice came flatly.
Sure, shock works. In truth, your mind was floating somewhere even higher than the 43,000 feet the plane had ascended, and your brain had gone as soft as a clump of cotton candy in the rain. You couldn’t speak, but you could think in bits and pieces. You blinked again.
“She looks like death warmed over.”
Thank you, Steve.
Off to the side in a plush, leather seat of his own, the man nursed a scotch on the rocks and frowned. Bucky didn’t have the strength to throw a punch or a pillow at his head and instead said only to shut the fuck up, man.
Your husband turned to the nurses again.
“She’s pregnant.”
I beg your finest pardon? You blinked a bit harder.
“No, she’s not, Buck,” Sam said from down the aisle.
“Well, she could be,” Bucky chided, “We’ve been going at it like rabbits since the—”
“Fuck’s sake,” Steve slapped a palm over his forehead. If you weren’t currently balls-deep in a state of mental disarray you probably would’ve done the same.
Bucky had made sure to tell all medical personnel aboard the plane that you were—or very well could be—carrying his child, so would you please take all precautionary measures possible? She’s my wife. You suspected if the doctors and nurses weren’t all on Bucky’s payroll they probably would’ve rolled their eyes and reminded him that all you needed were stitches, dressings, and extra fluids. And no, Mr. Barnes, your wife probably isn’t pregnant, even if you think your sperm is ‘built different’ than most.
“She’ll be fine either way,” the medic on your left said, stifling a chuckle. Wondering if the man had ever taken a sex ed class in his years of prudish, private education.
Bucky wasn’t convinced. Against all physicians’ wishes, he climbed up beside you in the seat and pulled you into his lap with both arms wrapped around your waist.
By turns, the world was coming back into focus for you. You met Bucky’s gaze for the first time, and the man looked overjoyed.
“See? See? She’s back.” Bucky squeezed your hip—and immediately released it when you winced.
“Mind the bandages, Mr. Barnes.”
Your caregivers pro tempore shot your husband a couple wry looks as they packed their supplies and started to leave, getting the sense that their boss wasn’t going to stop badgering them, or you, anytime soon. That worked just fine for Bucky, because then he would get to hold you any way that he liked, as long as you’d let him.
Steve, on the other hand, didn’t seem quite as thrilled.
Sam watched the medics’ departure with a wary look.
“She probably needs to rest, Bucky,” the latter said, careful with his words.
Bucky’s eyes never strayed from yours.
“She’s okay, Sam. She’s good.” Perhaps speaking more to himself than anyone else. Steve shifted in his seat.
In your periphery, Mr. Wilson was approaching with a glass in his hand. You turned your head, and Bucky accepted the cup of water for you.
“Feelin’ alright?” Sam asked.
You tried to nod, but your husband was already cradling your head like a baby, urging you to take your first sip.
A spate of water splashed down the front of your dress. You shot Bucky a look as he hastily tried to dry it.
“She’s not a child, Barnes,” Steve muttered.
“Should probably keep that elevated,” Sam cut in, nodding toward your swollen ankle, “We’ll get some ice.”
Sam tilted his head again, this time to motion to Steve. His friend pretended not to see him, and then Bucky was back on his feet, keen as ever,
“I’ll go.”
He kissed the top of your head and assured you he’d be right back. He’d just started off toward the door, when Sam hesitated. He flitted a quick look between you and Steve and looked like he wanted to say something, but Bucky was already ushering him out of the room.
When you turned to Steve, you understood why.
The man had you pinned with a stare that could’ve killed you ten times over, fisting his drink in a white-knuckled grip.
You watched him right back. Tried hard not to blink.
“Something wrong?”
You weren’t sure how you’d even mustered the strength to speak. Steve just brought it out of you, you figured.
“You tell me.” Tone dripping with disdain.
You raked your gaze over the man for a second, finding him dressed head-to-toe in his three piece suit—muddied with blood here and there, but still no worse for wear than you’d seen him an hour or two ago. It was that frown you couldn’t shake.
What had you done to piss him off so much? Shit in his cornflakes? Step on his toe? Had he seen you with Joey and jumped to the worst possible conclusion? You sincerely couldn’t make sense of the man’s indignation, so you wanted to ask him directly; before you could, though, Steve was interjecting, at length,
“We should’ve left you to die with the rest of your family.”
Your jaw slackened a bit.
“What?”
“You, your mother, your two-timing shitstain of a father. Every one of you should’ve stayed there to rot.”
Never mind the fact that he’d just wished you dead to your face—what did he mean about your parents?
“But they’re coming with us. Bucky said,” you managed.
“He did?” Steve grinned humorlessly, “He lied, doll. Your folks are probably bound and gagged at the bottom of the ocean right now.”
That sent the first real wave of fear pulsing through you. You slowly rose to your feet but, feeling yourself restrained by the makeshift IV line stuck in your skin, you stopped. You plucked the needle out of your arm.
“What are you talking about?”
You drew closer to Steve, who only sat back and sipped his scotch with amusement.
“What? That wasn’t part of the plan?” he quirked a brow, “Didn’t think anyone would dare lay a finger on your precious, self-righteous fucking family—”
You hardly even noticed you’d swatted Steve’s drink out of his hand until the glass went shattering on the floor. You blinked and raised a shaky, bruised finger about an inch from his face.
“The fuck did you just say to me?” Your jaw was clenched so tight you had to speak through your teeth.
Steve was beaming.
The door to the room flew open, and Bucky and Sam strolled in with their ice packs and pillows. They stopped when they saw the glass on the floor and your figure looming over Steve.
“You picked a real spitfire, Buck,” the blond called out, his hands raised in surrender as he smiled up at you.
Bucky seemed more surprised that you were able to stand, much less take that menacing stance over his friend, and he quickly tried to guide you back to your seat. You wouldn’t budge.
“What the fuck are you talking about?! Where are my parents?” You tried to shake your husband off as Steve’s grin grew even bigger.
“They’re fine, honey. Sit down, please,” Bucky mumbled.
“No! He said they were dead!” you shot back, eyes never leaving the smug, smirking face that seemed to be enthralled by the spectacle in front of him.
“Why don’t you tell her, Buck? Girl deserves to know.”
“Shut the fuck up, Rogers,” Sam uttered quietly.
“Tell me what?”
“It’s nothing, your parents are fine,” Bucky seemed pensive now, gaze scanning the ceiling for a second as he tried to collect his thoughts. You shoved his hands off.
“Don’t you fucking lie to me, James,” you said, diverting your attention to glare up at him, “What’s going on?”
“Either she’s a world-class actress or she really doesn’t have the first clue about this. Enlighten her.” Steve seemed a little more serene as he unscrewed a bottle of Talisker and reached for a second glass. You would’ve liked to knock back one or two—or ten—yourself.
You turned on your heels to face Bucky. At the moment, he seemed torn between imparting a death black stare on Steve and a placating, apologetic one to you. The tips of his ears were tinged pink.
“Baby—” He reached for you, but you pulled back.
“No.”
You wouldn’t ask him again. Your husband was wounded by the sight of your recoil—and perhaps by some painful truths he’d be compelled to share as well—and he wrung his hands. Started to chew the inside of his cheek.
Sam snagged the scotch and made a heavy pour.
“Why’d you marry him?” Steve said suddenly.
Bucky’s face dropped; you raised a brow in question. Before your husband could stop you, you answered,
“Because my dad was in debt.”
“For what?”
You paused.
“Real estate. Gambling. Fuck if I know.”
Steve nodded. Ignored Bucky’s sharp, reproachful gaze.
“And how much money did he owe?” he asked.
“Steve,” Sam warned.
“Four, five million—more than he could ever repay.”
This time, it was Steve to raise both brows as he mulled over your response. He almost looked surprised.
“You’re forced to marry a man just to settle a debt and you don’t even know the price that tight little body’s paying?” he scoffed.
His words hadn’t hung in the air for much longer than a second before Bucky decked him, shoving him square in the chest and sending him stumbling back a couple steps. A splash of whiskey was quick to join the bloodstains adorning Steve’s tux, and the pile of broken glass on the floor grew even bigger. The man hardly flinched when Bucky shoved his head to the end table.
“Say it again.” Your husband sounded dispassionate as ever. Like this was something he was used to doing.
“She should’ve known!” Steve snapped anyway.
You shared a brief look with Sam but found his expression inscrutable. He kicked a few shards of glass with the toe of his shoe.
“I wasn’t exactly in a place to negotiate,” you grumbled, “They were going to kill my father if we didn’t settle it, so I wasn’t all that interested in knowing how much money my A1 cunt was gonna cost Bucky. Personally.”
If he could go low, you would go lower. Fuck him.
You saw Steve grin through a freshly busted lip and straighten himself back into a seated position. He wiped the blood with the pad of his thumb while Bucky seemed to contemplate swinging again. The look in your eye cautioned him against it.
“Fair enough,” Steve conceded. He stopped to consider his words—ones that wouldn’t prompt Bucky to punch him directly in the throat—and looked to you, curious,
“Why would the mob kill him over a few million dollars?”
You shrugged.
“He’s a real estate broker. They probably knew he couldn’t fork over that kind of cash.”
Something akin to a stifled chuckle and a cough sounded from Sam, while Steve outright broke out laughing. Even Bucky’s expression softened a little as he rubbed his knuckles and paced closer to you.
“What?” you spat, “Did I say something funny?”
Sam shook his head slowly, starting, “I don’t think—”
“Your daddy’s a fucking gunrunner, sugar,” Steve wheezed, “Head of a multinational arms trafficking syndicate—motherfucker is not selling houses.”
Your insides churned with a mixture of disbelief and revulsion, but you couldn’t let them see that. When Bucky reached for your hand, you yanked it back again.
“And how the fuck would you know?” you said to Steve.
“We work with him. Used to work for him, at one point,” Sam answered.
“And the man is horseshit at business”—Steve paused to see if Bucky had shot him a warning look but found your husband far too concerned with capturing your attention—“He was $90 million in the hole when Bucky came to the rescue.”
“James?” You finally turned to him.
“And your daddy didn’t even owe the money to Bucky, he owed it to HYDRA,” Steve sneered.
“James,” you pressed again.
You couldn’t understand why your husband refused to speak—going as deadpan and radio silent as the night before. He stood there and watched you with a rigid, inflexible gaze.
“HYDRA as in— the Russian mob?” you asked him.
“No, the Girl Scouts,” Steve huffed, “Yes, the mob.”
“Schröder’s boys. Your dad’s been in business with them for years—owed them a lot of money,” Sam added.
“And your dad and Bucky’s dad have been friends even longer. So Bucky figured he’d do yours a favor and pay the debt himself.” Steve seemed eager to tell this story.
All the while, the hue of Bucky’s cheeks grew even deeper—like he didn’t want this coming to light. He sensed you wouldn’t stand down until you’d heard the whole ugly truth, though, so he held your gaze and watched you grow more repulsed by the second.
“Then why’d he need me? Just another bartering chip?” Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, “A pawn?”
“A peace offering,” Bucky said quietly.
Steve and Sam finally clammed up long enough to let him speak, but your husband seemed taciturn as ever.
“Your father didn’t owe me anything. I would’ve paid his debt and left it at that, but he insisted I— that we marry. He wanted an alliance no subsequent financial incentive could disrupt. He would take the money I gave him, pay HYDRA, and bow out of any future dealings with them. Our marriage was supposed to guarantee that.”
Bucky spoke slow, like every word was a labored breath. Hardly the same could be said for his friends.
“That was until your dipshit weapons dealer daddy decided he’d have his cake and eat it too. Struck an even sweeter deal with HYDRA and played in our faces,” Steve said.
“At the direction of Mr. Schröder, your father tried to intercept a shipment bound for one of Bucky’s warehouses in Brooklyn,” Sam continued, “Only problem is he fucked up the execution and cost Schröder a dozen men and tens of millions of dollars in artillery and blow.”
“So Schröder paid him a visit today,” Bucky muttered.
Without realizing it, you found yourself sinking into the nearest seat and bringing a hand to lay flat on your stomach. You felt sick. More than woozy, truthfully. Your head was spinning and your stomach was twisting something terrible, as if you’d just ingested cyanide.
Fuck, did you need a drink.
You couldn’t look at Bucky or Steve or Sam any longer.
You reached for your clutch and pulled out Joey’s flask.
And, bloodlusting mobsters and outlaws be damned, the Russians knew how to make the hell out of some vodka. A single sniff of the stuff told you this was exactly what you would need to cope with your current situation.
“So you think I had something to do with the new HYDRA deal?” you asked, “You honestly th—FUCK!”
Bucky lunged for the flask in your hand before you could take a single pull. He snatched it away in the blink of an eye and shot you a look.
“Liquor? For our baby?” he barked.
You audibly groaned and were just about to tell him that his understanding of human reproduction was a crock of shit when you stopped. You saw his expression change.
“Where did you get this?” Bucky asked, suddenly pale.
“You, dumbass!”
“Me?”
Bucky was presently passing the flask around to his friends, who were eyeing a spot on the bottom of the container with shared looks of alarm.
“Your friend gave it to me earlier saying that you wanted me to have it,” you said.
All three men looked up at once.
“What friend?” Sam asked.
“Joey,” you answered, “Bucky’s friend from the army.”
If it were possible for your husband to get any paler his skin might’ve turned the color of cottage cheese. His eyes were wide with fear.
Then he was hurrying to your side. Taking your hand.
“What friend from the army? What’d he look like?”
You were still scanning Bucky’s face, trying to make sense of the apprehension etched into his features, when you managed,
“I-I dunno. Blond. Light brown eyes.”
“Tall fella?” Steve asked.
“Very.”
“Have a German accent?” Sam pressed.
“No, a real thick Southern accent,” you shook your head. It didn’t occur to you then that it could’ve been fake.
You were about to turn your attention back to Bucky, brow still knit in confusion, when a vague memory crossed your mind. You looked up at Sam and Steve.
“He had a—” You tapped your chin lightly, “—a little scar right here.”
You would’ve thought you’d just announced you had a bomb strapped to your ass the way the three men reacted. Each wore identical looks of disbelief and muted horror, exchanging looks between themselves as if they’d just discovered the Atlantic Ocean—and found the Loch Ness Monster lurking somewhere underneath.
Bucky looked the worst out of all of them. His face had drained of all expression and color as he stared at you.
“Joey?” he intoned feebly.
“Yes,” you answered—feeling ineffectual, even dense, for not catching on to what the rest of them had discovered.
Fortunately, Sam wouldn’t let you wallow in ignorance.
“Johann Schröder,” he supplied in a second, “The man you were talking to was Mr. Schröder, head of HYDRA.”
Steve held the flask in his grasp for you to see the bottom, where a skull with six tentacles was engraved. Then he tipped the canister into a glass he’d taken in his other hand and watched a frothy pink liquid spill out.
“Looks to be a serum of his,” Steve said, hollow as you’d ever heard him, “Kind of like…roofies.”
“You didn’t drink any of it, did you?” Sam asked.
“Nuh-uh. Bucky showed up right as he was trying to, uh— to pour it in my mouth.”
A beat of silence gripped the room.
Bucky looked like he might burst a blood vessel, or someone’s skull. Or both.
Still, he wouldn’t speak to you.
The inside of your head was throbbing.
You almost preferred the ruthless, irate glint in Steve’s eye when he’d suspected you of being a traitor the first time around; this cloyingly sympathetic gaze he was giving you now had to be the most maddening thing. He and Sam both looked on at you like you were a victim. Like you were something to be pitied, or coddled, or left to the capable hands of your husband—a motherfucker who couldn’t even speak so much as a syllable to you.
You felt a pressure build, then swell, then peak between your temples, and you wanted to wince but couldn’t stand the thought of looking weak in front of them.
Then your nose started to bleed.
That, at least, woke Bucky from his reverie as he fumbled around for a napkin and helped you to your feet. He looped an arm around your waist and led you off to the bathroom, his grip tightening on your frame with every step you took.
In two minutes flat, you were flooded with fifteen feet of toilet paper and tissues. Bucky cupped the back of your head in one of his broad, warm palms and kept it plastered there as he instructed you to hold it, honey, hang on, I can grab a few extra rolls right here and guided you toward a private area at the back of the plane.
You could scarcely see above the bunched up wads of Charmin Ultra Strong pressed close to your nose, but you trusted Bucky wouldn’t lead you astray. You felt the welcome touch of a bed underneath you, and then your husband was helping you settle in amongst the pillows and the blankets and the rose petals that had been scattered around before—not entirely appropriate now, but a nice touch nonetheless—and slipping your shoes off your feet. You felt his hand graze your ankle, and then he was saying he’d be right back with those ice packs.
You reached for his hand before he could leave.
“I don’t want it,” you said, your voice slightly muffled by the tissues, “Want you to talk to me, James.”
Bucky’s brow pinched inward. He kneeled down in front of you, where you were sitting on the edge of the bed.
“I am— I’m talking to you right now, honey, I—”
“You know what I mean.”
Bucky wiped his hand down his face and shook his head. Like he was trying to rid himself of a thought.
“I don’t want to talk about HYDRA. Or your father,” he said simply.
“Why not?”
“You’re not in the right place to hear it.”
You plucked the toilet paper away from your face long enough to give him a stern glare.
“We’re on a plane. Fleeing Greece. After you got curb-stomped in our honeymoon suite, our post-wedding brunch was bombed by the Russian mob, I was almost drugged by their leader, and my parents are probably as good as dead, if not being held for ransom, as we speak. Please tell me a better place to have this conversation.”
Bucky was left stumped for a second. Then he slowly rose back to his feet.
“Okay.”
Infuriating.
“Okay?” you snapped, “We could’ve died five times today and all you can say is okay?”
“Uh-huh.”
Fuck this guy. You wiped your nose and stood up too.
Bucky tried to nudge you back onto the bed, wary of the ever-growing number of bumps, bruises, and nosebleeds afflicting your body. He tensed when you nudged him right back.
“I need to see my family,” You stood firm, “As soon as we land wherever it is we’re going, I’m on the first flight back to New York—or wherever they are.”
You dabbed at your nose once more and looked up at him.
“No, you’re not,” Bucky returned.
“What? You’re gonna stop me?”
“Yes, I will.”
The worst part was he wasn’t even smug about it. Just calm and self-assured. You flung your tissues to the side and threw your hands up in exasperation, feeling the need to step away from him and start pacing the room. The man’s reticence was grating on your nerves.
“Why bother, Buck?” you snorted, “It’s not like I’m even your wife, really. I’m just a peace offering that you get to bend over and fuck every now and then, right?”
You turned to make your first circuit around the foot of the bed but were shortly met with the expanse of Bucky’s chest. You looked up to find him frowning.
“Don’t say that again,” he glowered down at you.
Unlike most times before, you didn’t flinch. When he reached for your wrists, you didn’t let him win.
“I’m not your wife,” you repeated, “We may be playing the most fucked up game of mob charades, but this is not a real marriage.”
You ignored Bucky’s evident desire to grab hold of something of yours and side-stepped easily, expanding the gap between you two as much as you could. It was almost amusing to see him not in control for once, and floundering to recover what semblance of it he could.
“You are my wife,” he insisted, frown growing deeper as you crept along the edge of the room, “Everything I do now is for you—it’s not a goddamn game to me.”
“You used me for some Machiavellian marriage ploy! That is the definition of a game, James!”
“I don’t even know what the fuck that means,” Bucky said, “But I love you.”
“You met me yesterday, motherfucker!”
You could feel another bloody nose rising in your bones. You turned around, swiped your lip with the back of your hand and were surprised to see nothing there. You waited for the bleeding to start back up again. When you turned, Bucky had closed the distance between you and was holding something in his hand.
Before you could protest, he was smoothing the thing over your face—apparently he’d grabbed a washcloth and dampened it—and laced his fingers through the hair at the back of your head. He held you firmly as he blotted the blood.
“Is it so hard to believe that I love you?” he asked quietly.
He was trying hard to placate you, but his actions were having just the opposite effect. You let him wipe the blood from your face but watched him begrudgingly.
“You want someone to control, Bucky,” you said, “Love is not a power play that you get to manipulate at will.”
Bucky blinked, trying to conjure up a response as he daubed the skin with a little more force. You weren’t finished.
“You look at me and see a victim. Someone you need to watch over— who can’t take care of themse—”
“That’s not true.”
“Really? That’s not what a ‘good little wife’ is to you?” you retorted.
At last, Bucky tossed the hand towel to the side and ran a hand through his hair. He stepped toward the dresser, shrugging off his suit jacket.
“That’s a— a bit I do when I’m horny. I don’t actually want you subservient to me,” he muttered as he looked around for a hanger. Finally, he just draped the coat over the back of a chair and sighed.
“So holding me hostage from my family is a bit, too?” you quizzed.
“To keep you safe from the people who tried to kill them. I’m sorry I don’t want to see you butchered because of me,” Bucky returned with just as much biting sarcasm.
“That’s rich coming from you.” You despised the indignation in your tone but couldn’t help it. These thoughts had been brewing inside your skull for hours. You watched Bucky struggle to undo his bow tie—just like the night before—and, again, your brain barely registered the action before you were reaching for the garment and tugging at the fabric to loosen it yourself.
“What are you talking about?” Bucky asked, brow furrowed.
“Last night,” you yanked harder than you meant to. The knot just got tighter, “And today. Tonight. You’re as still as the fucking grave and won’t say a word when something bad is happening. You just let it happen.”
You tried to pry your fingers through the tie but found it stiff as ever. You groaned inwardly.
“No, I don’t,” Bucky objected.
“You’re doing it right now! You wouldn’t tell me about HYDRA, or my father, or the guy who could’ve— hurt me. You didn’t say a word of that to me, and you expect me to believe we’re in this together? That you’re trying to keep me safe? You couldn’t even—” you paused to pull at that stupid tie your husband had tangled about four times over, finally feeling it give way a little—“couldn’t even pretend to give a fuck when those men broke in last night and almost killed us!”
Just as you freed the silk from its knot, Bucky seized your wrist. Shoved your hand off of his collar.
“I had to do that,” he snapped.
He threw his tie to the floor and started to unbutton the cuffs of his sleeves. The sight of his broad, veiny forearms were only visible to you for a second before he headed toward the closet, peeling off bits and pieces of his ensemble as he walked.
“You didn’t do anything, Bucky! You just sat there and got the shit beat out of you for no fucking reason! You didn’t even try to fight back.”
Bucky had just muscled his way out of the confines of his dress shirt, leaving him in a tight, plain white tee. He turned to you with what seemed like the most pointed look of disdain.
“You think I wanted to do that?!” he barked. Suddenly facing you head-on, skin flushed a shade just shy of crimson.
“You were too chickenshit. Didn’t wanna get your hands dirty, so you let Sam do it for you,” you seethed.
Your husband looked as though he wanted to put his fist through a wall and pummel it several times over. Seemed like he did, anyway. In truth, he didn’t move—just watched you with the most cruel, unflinching gaze as he clenched his jaw.
“I’m chickenshit?” he repeated.
“Yeah. Coward,” you spat.
“Too much of a coward to keep you safe?”
“Precisely.”
At long last, you saw Bucky smile. It was the tightest, most humorless grin that had ever crossed his lips, but it was a smile nonetheless. He raised a hand over your head and bracketed his arm against the wall so he was leaning over you. Not meant to intimidate per se, but the sight of that smirk was unnerving, to say the least.
“Did you hear what language they spoke?” he asked, voice unbearably low as he drew his face closer to yours.
“It sounded like—”
“Russian, that’s right,” Bucky cut in, “Do you know what they said to me when they pulled us to the floor?”
You swallowed and said nothing. Bucky’s breaths were fanning hot across your cheeks, sending waves of a strange sensation all throughout your body—you weren’t sure if you were meant to be aroused or scared shitless.
“They told me, ‘If you move, we’ll kill her,’” Bucky deadpanned as he began to trace the wallpaper beside your head with a single, bloodied finger, “‘If you fight, we’ll dismember her and set fire to every piece of her body in front of you.’ Or something to that effect.”
The repetition of their words seared your veins like a legion of flames. You could picture them saying it. Grabbing hold of Bucky’s head by the roots of his hair and beating him over and over and over, threatening your life if he made a single move to stop it.
“Bucky—” you started.
“I know they meant it, too. HYDRA operatives make good on their promises if they really set out to harm someone.”
Your husband’s grin had transformed into something more of a crooked, downcast grimace, just baring his teeth as he tried not to lose his composure. Guilt flooded his face.
“I know I should’ve told you then. And after. I should’ve told you about your father as soon as Steve’s informant told us. I just—” Bucky stopped to swallow; he couldn’t meet your gaze—“I didn’t want that hanging over your head. Not after everything that happened last night.”
It was like a blade had just twisted in your stomach. Your throat ached. You wanted to touch him but were almost too scared to ask. He looked so fragile.
“I am a coward. And controlling. Probably the most chickenshit, overbearing son of a bitch you could’ve been unfortunate enough to marry.” For a moment, Bucky’s gaze flickered to yours, and you saw a blooming red hue around the blues of his irises, “But that’s not how I’m supposed to love you—or going to love you.”
You weren’t sure how to reply; you tried raising a hand to his cheek, just to touch the skin, but decided against it.
“I’ve been a shit husband, fake or not. I’m sorry.”
Fake husband maybe, but the look on his face was intractably authentic. Palpable. He blinked as though trying to clear the warm and heady feelings from his expression—suddenly not wanting you to see the shades of his emotions painted there—and focused instead on a few stray strands of hair that had blown over your face. He got very invested in those, all of a sudden.
While your husband stroked the corners of your face and fixed his gaze away from yours, you felt the smallest prick of warmth spark within you. Bucky looked soft and serene and sincere in his apology, defenseless now as he grazed his knuckles over your cheek and said it again,
“I’m sorry, honey. I’m so sorry.”
He paired his apology with a rapid succession of little kisses pressed to your forehead, moving his hand to the nape of your neck to pull you closer to him.
You wanted to touch him, too. You almost felt as though you didn’t know how.
So you stood there and accepted his affections and tried to nod your head when he asked if you were alright, were you hurting any, baby? You leaned into the gentle pressure of his fingertips taking stock of every cut and bruise you’d sustained over the course of that day, watched Bucky’s brow furrow with each new discovery, and tried not to let his touch stray far down your body.
You wanted to be the one with your hands on him—now more than ever.
When Bucky’s hand trailed over your chin, you tilted your head just slightly to kiss it. Your husband didn’t think much of it, just smiling down as tender as he always did, when your lips really grazed over the skin. You pressed a kiss to his finger and wordlessly urged him to move it further. Now it was Bucky’s turn to be at a loss for what to do as you took the tip of his thumb between your lips and suckled it, gently.
“Honey,” he let out a sigh, half-encouragement and half-warning—what were you trying to do?
You glided your mouth down his finger so half of his thumb was enveloped inside. You sucked it again.
“You can’t…” Bucky maintained feebly, eyes briefly scouring all the cuts and bruises across your skin. He didn’t want to see you strain yourself any further.
But whatever pain this might cause was ancillary to you; you curled your tongue around the digit and moaned lightly.
The taste of one finger alone was enough to send you into a frenzy. That and the fact that he had been so open and honest and attentive to your needs made every bone in your body want to jump his. Something about a man taking accountability for his actions and communicating them in a way that didn’t intimidate or belittle you was refreshing. Sexy, almost. Admittedly, the bar for mob boss husbands was hovering somewhere deep in hell, but you admired Bucky’s efforts all the same.
You popped his thumb out of your mouth and smiled.
“You worry too much, Mr. Barnes.”
The echo of his words from earlier—the ones he’d said as he was railing you against a mirror—made Bucky’s cock twitch. His gaze trailed down to the sheen of saliva on your lip, and he almost folded on the spot. He swallowed.
“Don’t wanna hurt you, bunny,” he murmured as you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth and peered up at him.
“Hurt me how?”
You really hadn’t meant to sound like such a tease when you’d said it, but it was hard not to come across that way when you were watching him like that.
And sinking to your knees, with your eyes glued on his.
Bucky sucked in a breath as you kneeled between his feet and nudged the seam of his pants with your nose. He felt so big against your face, you almost couldn’t fathom how he’d fit inside of you the night before. You were amazed how quickly he’d gotten hard—as if the two of you weren’t just having a heart-to-heart a second ago—and you felt your own arousal pool in your panties.
“You know I don’t mind if it hurts. Love the way you stretch me out anyhow,” you continued, and tried not to smirk as you imagined a dozen filthy images from last night flash before Bucky’s mind.
You heard him stifle a groan when you ghosted your lips over the bulge in his pants and felt him swell even more. Your mouth watered at the sound, the sensation, the raw anticipation of what was to come and knowing that you got to dictate what happened. You undid the button and the zip of his pants and damn near drooled at the sight.
Even confined to his boxers, Bucky looked fucking huge.
Suddenly, you began to understand how needy he had been the night before when he’d first wedged his face between your legs and gotten a taste of you. You hadn’t so much as sampled an inch of his cock, and you were already aching to swallow him whole.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” Bucky grunted as he planted a hand on the wall in front of him. You kissed the outline of his clothed erection and earned a full-throated groan.
Well, that makes two of us, you wanted to say but were too busy palming him through his boxers to utter a word. Soaking in the sight of him with every sweet, soft groan he made and wanting to be the reason for even more.
“Can I take you in my mouth, daddy?” you asked softly.
Bucky flattened his palm against the wall and nodded. Beyond words as you worked him out of his boxers.
For one, fleeting moment, you almost wanted to walk back your big talk when his cock sprung out of the fabric. You really hadn’t seen his length at all last night—too busy having it stuffed inside your cunt to get a good look—but holy shit was it an intimidating sight. You weren’t sure if it was just the nerves of this being your first time giving head or if Bucky truly was that massive, but you felt your courage start to crumble before your eyes.
My husband is hung like a fucking horse and I’ve never fit anything bigger than a couple fingers in my mouth. This should go well.
Bucky was evidently so turned on that he didn’t notice the apprehension in your expression. After all, you were moving your lips down his cock and seizing the base of him with what looked like excitement.
Should I…lick it first?
It seemed you would have to learn all of this on the job. You stuck your tongue out and ran it up the length of his shaft.
When Bucky groaned in response, you sensed that that was okay. You pressed a few kisses on the underside of his member and scrambled to think of what else to do.
“Fuck, baby,” your husband let out the most guttural sound as you squeezed his length in your hand. Then, to your surprise, he seized a fistful of your hair between his fingers and rutted his hips, pushing the head of himself against your lips, “Take me in your mouth.”
You heard the Kill Bill sirens blare between your ears but said nothing. You could do this—you’d be fine.
Your lips wrapped around the head of his cock, and Bucky gripped your hair even tighter. Let out a deep, satisfied moan like this was exactly what he needed. You liked that noise and wanted to take him even further.
What you didn’t expect was four more inches shoved inside your mouth before you could stop to take a breath.
The whole girth of his cock made a sharp intrusion, causing your cheeks to stretch and hollow out around him. The head of his member barely grazed the back of your throat, and still, you gagged. And not only gagged but choked, as though someone had just tried to scrub your tonsils with a fine-bristle toothbrush. Unfortunately for you, Bucky’s dick did not taste like spearmint.
He pulled his cock out as quickly as he’d pushed it in.
“Sorry. Shit, sorry.” Bucky blinked twice to get out of that blissed-out headspace and shot you a sheepish look.
The man had rarely been obliged to slow down or take five when his old, ever-changing flavors of the night sucked him off before—most blew him without trouble. But you, kneeling there batting your lashes through a few more tears than expected, seemed uncertain. Even half of his shaft made for a tight fit in your mouth, Bucky thought with some guilty feelings of arousal. He watched you wipe your chin with the back of your hand and frown.
“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, baby,” Bucky said, stroking the top of your head.
Suddenly, the frown was turned in his direction.
You raised a brow.
“Why? That all you got, Barnes?”
Bucky couldn’t help but chuckle—and grunt, a little—when you grabbed the base of his cock and brought it down to your swollen pout. His hand instinctively moved back to the wall.
“Honey, are you s—”
He stopped the second you rubbed him up and down and pressed a kiss on the most sensitive skin.
“My mouth isn’t made of paper mâché. You can fuck it a little harder than that,” you said, running your touch down his length while holding his gaze. You looked eager.
Before Bucky could respond, you took the tip of his cock between your lips. Flattened your tongue and glided your mouth down as far as it could go before your cheeks started to hurt—then bobbed your head even further. One of your husband’s hands made a fist in your hair while the other scraped the wall, and you could tell it was taking some serious effort not to rut his hips out of habit.
Be gentle, be gentle, your dick barely fits in her mouth—
“—fucking hell you feel good,” he groaned.
Bucky took one look and could have cum on the spot.
It was one thing to feel you licking and sucking and stretching to accommodate his length, and another thing entirely to see you knelt in front of him with the world’s sweetest gaze, mouth stuffed full of his cock and eyes all but rolling back at the overwhelming sensation. You’d nearly made it all the way to the short tufts of hair on his lower abdomen—and looked so pretty doing it.
Bucky fucking loved it. And you. And fucking you, your face, any place he could fit himself, quite frankly. He stared down at you struggling to take his cock and felt a strange new wave of desire pulsing through his body.
“You like that, doll? Like when daddy fucks that slutty little mouth of yours?”
“Barely fits but you take it so well, bunny.”
“My good little wife and her pretty fucking mouth—likes sucking daddy’s cock however deep he needs it, huh?”
You liked it more than the air in your lungs, to be honest. Only problem was you couldn’t quite speak your mind with your mouth full of Bucky, so you had only to nod. Your husband groaned when you hummed along his length and bobbed your head to answer ‘yes.’ He saw you try not to gag and decided to thrust a little deeper.
He watched his cock drag back and forth along your tongue and took hold of your hair like a vice, fucking your face until your chin and cheeks were drenched with spit. Every now and then he’d pull his cock out just long enough to ask how bad you wanted him in your mouth, how desperate you were to taste him again, and every time you’d answer a little more sweetly and incoherently than before, eyes glazed with desire and mouth open for more.
You were amazed you’d lasted as long as you had—how quickly you’d devolved into this pliable, doe-eyed cocksleeve for Bucky and how keenly you desired to please him even more. It felt pornographic and lewd and somehow still loving as he plowed in and out of your mouth and sang your praises like no man had before.
Above you, Bucky was aching for release but adamant that he wouldn’t cum down your throat—not yet, at least.
His mind was alight with those pesky, primal thoughts again, and every time he watched you swallow him whole, he just wanted to fuck his cum someplace else.
Bucky wasn’t sure if he was smitten or simply dominated by carnal desire; all he knew was that he wanted to give you his babies.
Lots and lots of babies.
A hundred or more, if he had it his way.
Again, you barely had a chance to take a fresh breath before Bucky threw you onto the bed. You’d just tried to steady yourself in a semi-seated position when the man shoved you back in the pillows and slotted himself between your legs, pupils blown wide with hunger.
In a blink, you were flipped onto your stomach with your ass yanked high in the air. Back made to arch, toes about to curl, you closed your eyes and sank your teeth into the sheets, moments away from begging your husband to fuck you right then and there, but Bucky had other plans. He seized the hair at the crown of your head and jerked your head to face forward.
The first thing to greet you was your own reflection—in a floor-to-ceiling mirror at the foot of the bed—followed by Bucky’s broad form steadying behind you. You watched him wet his lips, furrow his brow, and use one careful hand to guide the head of his cock to your entrance. Completely piqued with arousal as you were, weeping beads of desire from that place between your legs, you almost wanted to buck your hips and fuck him yourself.
You refrained.
Bucky pressed the tip of himself to your clit and met your gaze in the mirror when you let out a whimper.
“You didn’t mean it, did you?” he asked, tone suddenly dropped to that of a stoic.
“Mean what?”
It took an unbelievable amount of willpower to fight the moan in your throat when Bucky dragged his cock down the seam of your cunt and rubbed every hot, throbbing inch of himself in the slickness between your folds. You were quick to take the sheets in your hands and squeeze as tight as you could—you wouldn’t let him win that easy.
“When you said you weren’t my wife. Did you mean it?” Bucky was coating himself now, rolling his hips back and forth while you seized the white linens for dear life.
“No. I didn’t,” you said through your teeth. Your eyelids fluttered with the feel of him circling your sensitive hole.
“Do you want to be my wife?” Bucky had to have known it was an asinine question, but he asked it all the same.
“Yes.”
“You do?”
“I do. I do. Now will you just fuck me already?”
In response, and as if to make a mockery of your request, Bucky just pressed the head of his cock inside you and watched you close in the mirror—daring your hips to move back another inch.
“What else do you want to be, doll?”
To say your mind was an empty slate bare of anything but the desire to be fucked was an understatement. You fumbled to find words.
“Your wife, your girl— that’s it, Bucky.”
Your husband nudged his cock a little deeper.
“A good girl?” he hummed.
“Yes, daddy,” you cried and clenched around him.
Bucky stayed where he was and stretched your wet, aching hole with just his tip, making the world’s most shallow thrusts as he flattened his hand on your back and made sure it stayed arched while he teased you.
At this point, you didn’t care what the man saw or heard. You fought with your hips and whined into the sheets.
“Bucky!”
“Wanna be my obedient little cockslut?” he asked.
“Uh-huh.”
“My bunny?”
“Yes, James.” Your cheeks were enflamed, almost hot to the touch.
Bucky suddenly drove himself inside you all the way to the hilt. He squeezed your hip in one hand and with the other slipped a finger between your folds to rub vicious, tight circles against your clit as you bucked and moaned beneath his touch.
“How about a momma?” he pressed, almost too low to be heard, “Wanna be that, too?”
His hips fell into a quick and easy rhythm against your ass, stretching you wide and filling you up almost seamlessly. Your mind was too consumed with pleasure and him to think much else, but barely, you managed,
“W-what?”
Bucky delivered a thrust that knocked the breath from your chest, leaning down to rub your clit even harder.
“Do you want to be a mommy? Have me fill you up and put my baby inside you?”
Oh, fuck. Fucking—what the fuck? Your toes curled as a new jolt of pleasure shot through you, and your gaze locked with Bucky’s in the mirror. He knew exactly what he was doing.
“No— James, we’re not, shit—” you stopped to take a breath as he fucked you rough from behind, smirking the whole time, “We’re not ready for that.”
“Look pretty…ready to me,” Bucky stifled a groan when you squeezed around him and made obscene little noises sliding up and down his cock. He watched the way your pretty, wet pussy stretched and swallowed him down to the base and imagined it dripping with his cum. He snapped his hips against your ass even faster.
It wasn’t clear just who was more overcome with desire—both of you blissed out and fuckdrunk as you’d ever been—and then Bucky flipped you onto your back.
He wanted to see your face as he fucked you slow this time, lips hovering mere inches from your own as he dragged his cock gently in and out of you.
“James,” you breathed, digging your heels in his back with a wordless plea to speed up, baby, please.
In truth, you just knew what would happen if Bucky had the advantage of slow and soft sex with a mouth lowered close to your ear. How he’d shower you with kisses and bring you right to the edge, rolling his hips against your body with strings of sweet praises flowing fast off his tongue.
“Just one, honey,” he mumbled, lips grazing the edge of your jaw, “One baby and I promise we’ll be done.”
Yeah fucking right, you wanted to return with a roll of your eyes but felt your insides churn as he grazed that spot.
“Can you do that for me, doll?” he eased his dick back and forth and snaked a hand between your bodies until his palm was laying flat on your stomach, “Fit my baby in there?”
You couldn’t deny the feelings of pleasure were heightened to no end when he rubbed the heel of his palm into your tummy and continued to rut into you. That feeling of fullness, the delicate nudge against your most sensitive place, paired with the warmth of Bucky’s hand on your lower abdomen, was as close to euphoric as you’d ever felt before orgasm, and it wasn’t hard to tell from the way your body responded. Bucky worked his touch even deeper and watched you writhe beneath him.
“My sweet girl,” he cooed, rubbing that spot, “You’d look so pretty all swole up down here, don’t you think?”
Fucking hell, this guy was good. You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to shake your head.
“Someone…tried to kill us…twice in the last twenty four hours,” you managed between labored breaths. Trying not to whimper when the head of Bucky’s cock kissed your cervix and you felt him bottom out inside you.
Balls deep and enamored with the expression on your face, Bucky laid a kiss on your forehead and smiled.
“I’ll take Schröder’s life with my own two hands if it means keeping you—” he paused to press his palm even firmer on your stomach, “—and our child safe, honey.”
You wanted to believe him. You sincerely hoped your husband could make good on his promise—even if it meant delivering an agonizing, bloody death to a man you barely knew—but you sensed deep down that there were no guarantees in the world Bucky Barnes inhabited. From what little you’d seen in the last day and a half, it had become clear as ever that there were no certainties; no promise of tomorrow, much less a probability that things would pan out exactly as you planned. Add to that a living, breathing child between you two, and the prospects for a safe, secure, and peaceful future were small. Infinitesimally so, in the grand scheme of things.
“No, Bucky,” you finally opened your eyes to find his tender gaze watching over you. Still moving his hips gently, still blanketing your body with his own, “That’s entirely just— just irresponsible. You know it would be.”
“Making a child together?” Bucky seemed wounded saying the words.
And, in spite of the serious turn your conversation had taken, you could see and feel with the growing pace of your breaths that both of you were close. You wanted more than anything to repair that muted, injured look in his eyes, but then Bucky was blinking it away, to the best of his abilities, and lowering his head back down to yours to impart a soft barrage of kisses along your skin. He resumed before you could even think to speak again.
“Okay. No, you’re right. It’s your choice, my love,” he murmured against your cheek, getting back into the more deliberate rhythm of his thrusts before. He stayed there holding his body and his lips as close to yours as possible, and when you felt tempted to say something again, you found the sound drowned by a cresting wave of pleasure.
Your legs tightened around Bucky’s sides, and your head fell back on the bed. You felt Bucky’s drop right beside you, turned just slightly to graze his lips against your ear.
“Gonna cum for me, doll?”
You nodded.
“So close, Bucky,” you breathed, a tremor passing over your thighs as they squeezed him even tighter.
You felt your husband’s hand move from your belly to a place just below it—taking care to bring the pad of his thumb to that wet, aching bundle of nerves—and started drawing circles. Your back arched from the bed, into him, and the coil of pleasure in your lower half swelled.
“Good girl,” Bucky growled, “Good fuckin’ girl, taking me so well.”
The praises and gentle circuits of his thumb continued as he fucked you harder into the bed and panted against your skin. Increasing the speed of his thrusts before catching your mouth in a sloppy kiss, body sinking into yours.
“Gonna make a mess of this cock, huh? Show daddy just how much you love it?”
You whined in response, feeling your muscles start to ache from how hard your legs were wrapped around him. Bucky invaded your mouth with his tongue, kissing and licking and craving your taste as he fucked you stupid—and begged for your release.
“Cum for daddy, honey, I know you got it. Let daddy feel it, baby, please.”
A couple more snaps of his hips and you gave him just that: a hot, cascading ripple of bliss spreading all throughout your body, sending your mind in spirals and every muscle under your command a tense, throbbing mess. You swallowed a scream and took a bite of Bucky’s shoulder instead, causing the man above you to grin and fuck you harder.
“That’s my girl,” he mumbled with an audible hint of pride.
The smile only started to waver when his own release was coming close. Suddenly, his grip was moving to your hip and pinning you down to the bed, brows pinching in and breaths starting to hitch.
“Honey— honey,” he said, voice strained, “Baby, you— you gotta let go of your— ah, fuck.”
Still riding out the highs of your orgasm, you hardly even noticed how tight you were holding him with your legs, and shortly, this raised issues for Bucky, who was trying like hell to heed your wishes and not cum inside you.
“Baby, let go, I gotta—”
He probably could’ve fought to shake you off a little harder, been a bit more adamant about his efforts, but you looked so comfortable and lithe and sweet beneath his frame, so blissed out and happy to be taking his strokes, Bucky almost had to pinch himself to rouse his lust-addled brain to action and remind himself that this was how babies are made, man, get the fuck off of her.
Bucky let out a long, strangled groan as the ropes of cum left his body before he could think, or move, fast enough.
He hastily pushed your legs away and pulled out, but not before painting your walls with a good portion of his load. His hand fell to his cock and started jerking the rest of it out over your stomach, body washing with pleasure.
Vaguely, thoughts of babies and ballgames and neat white picket fences crossed his mind, but those views were fleeting; he remembered what you’d told him and forced himself back to earth, dropping a quick, apologetic kiss to the side of your face.
“I’m sorry. Should’ve pulled out quicker,” Bucky panted against your neck.
You stroked his bicep and shook your head.
“You’re fine. I kinda had you down like a boa constrictor for a second,” you breathed and shared a weary laugh.
Before you knew it, Bucky was sliding off the bed and shuffling toward the bathroom in search of a towel. You prodded the warm, gooey mess on your belly with your finger and raised an eyebrow. Curious, and only slightly worried.
Bucky had been hitting it raw for a day now—surely one more half-load of his wouldn’t get you pregnant, right?
Fortunately, you didn’t have much longer to ponder that thought because a trill of a ringtone sounded from the nightstand.
A phone call? At 45,000 feet?
“Just the intercom,” Bucky called out, “Probably Steve about to start complaining that we fuck too loud.”
Huh. You stared at the trimline-looking telephone on the table and let it ring. Then the sound stopped.
“You think they could hear us?” you asked.
Bucky had just wet a washcloth under the sink and was rifling through the cabinets for something else.
“Hope so,” he said with a shrug, “You know I’d never miss a chance to let ‘em know I took a trip to poundtown—”
“Please never say that again,” you groaned, closing your eyes in sudden fear of what Steve and Sam may or may not have just been made privy to outside of the room.
You were just about to speak up again—perhaps to tell your husband there would be an indefinite travel ban to poundtown if he didn’t hurry the fuck up with that towel—when the intercom’s jarring peal started up once more.
Fuck this. Ignoring the sticky-sweet puddle of love still painted on your stomach, you sat up and crawled over to the phone and ripped it off the hook.
“Barnes residence,” you announced without ceremony. Then, imagining how smug Steve was probably looking on the other end of that line, you decided to be crass and add, “Bucky Barnes is very busy laying pipe on his wife right now, but if you could leave your name and number, he’ll be sure to call you back as soon as possible!”
You heard the caller burst out laughing, and you smiled to yourself. Pleased to have made an otherwise moody and brooding Steve Rogers crack at one of your jokes, you were just about to hang up when the caller cut in.
Bucky was returning with your towel in hand, lips curled in the faintest of smirks at hearing your crude declaration, when he stopped at the foot of the bed.
He saw the smile fall from your face, and his did, too.
From the other end of the line, a soft and familiar Southern drawl crawled out of the phone’s receiver.
“Sure thing, doll. Tell him it’s Joey Schröder calling.”
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#bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#marvel#mcu#mob bucky barnes#marvel smut#marvel x reader#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes
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To Have and To Hold-
And to Fuck Whenever I Want
Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
ALL OF MY WORK IS 18+
Word Count: 1.5k
C/W: Shameless smut. It’s our favorite dirty talkin’, 107 year old super soldier fucking you (his wife) on your period.
Gimme beefy Bucky coming home late, long after his kids are in bed for the night and finding his pretty little wife curled up on the couch with a frown on her perfect face, watching some shitty ass movie.
His cock twitches in his jeans at the sight of you in his tshirt and an audible groan rises up from his throat when he rounds the corner completely and notices you’ve chosen to forgo pajama pants altogether. Those innocent little cotton briefs of yours always do him in.
“What’s wrong, momma?” He asks in a low, gravely voice as he takes a seat next to you on the couch, resting a large hand on your bare thigh.
“Cramps.” You reply flatly, not taking your gaze off the garbage rom-com playing on the tv, though you’ve seen it numerous times.
“Oh.” He breathes out, glancing over his shoulder at the dry-erase calendar hanging on the wall in the kitchen that you use to manage your large family’s schedule. “Hm. Two days early?” He asks.
“Yeah, two fucking days early.” You snap, shifting in your seat.
He keeps his grasp firm on your thigh, offering an affectionate squeeze.
“You feelin’ that bad, huh?” He asks in a soft voice that he reserves only for you.
You nod, finally pulling your attention away from the television and turning it onto him. The only light source in the room at this time of night is from the flashing scenes across the flatscreen but that little bit of illumination is all he needs to see how glassy your eyes are.
“Oh, baby girl.” He murmurs, pushing your hair back off your face. “Lemme take care of you.”
You shake your head, knocking free a few of the tears that had been brimming your lash line. “No, there’s nothing you can do to help.”
He scoffs, his hand sliding up the soft flesh of your thigh until his fingertips brush the hem of your underwear.
“No. Baby, no.” You protest, bringing your hand down to stop him but his vibranium hand is faster, catching your wrist and pushing it away.
“Yes. Baby, yes.” He muses, slipping his index finger under the fabric and gently wrapping the string of your tampon around it.
“Bucky, that’s disgusting.” You hiss, frowning at him. “I’m on my period.”
He lets out a low, breathy chuckle as he slowly and carefully begins to tug. “It’s just blood, momma. You think me of all people would be bothered by blood?” He asks softly.
You pause, considering your answer but in your silence he continues. “Besides, wasn’t that part of the vows we exchanged in that sweet little church before God? To have and to hold and to fuck whenever I want?”
“That was not in our vows and you know it.”
“Hm, they weren’t? We should consider renewing those.” He replies with a crooked smirk as he pulls your tampon free, tossing it over the couch and into the waste bin with precision.
“I gotta be honest, baby girl. If the good lord hadn’t intended for me to fuck you everytime my cock was hard, he wouldn’t have blessed you with such a perfect little pussy.”
“Bucky..” you warn, sitting upright as he rises off the couch.
He shushes you, his large hands moving to unbuckle his belt as your eyes settle on the tented crotch of his jeans.
“If you think-“ He mumbles, pulling the leather through the silver buckle and unbuttoning his jeans with his thick fingers. “That I’m not going to bury myself balls deep inside my wife any and every chance I get- you are sorely mistaken.” He tells you matter of factly, tugging his jeans down his defined waist and kicking them unceremoniously aside in a pile at the foot of the couch. “Now take off those sweet little panties before I tear them off of you.”
You hesitate, swallowing down the whimper that rose up in your throat at his command.
“I said, off.” He repeats sternly, stepping out of his boxers and wrapping a hand around his weeping cock. He pumps himself lazily once, twice, in your hesitation before letting out an impatient growl and reaching forward to curl his vibranium fingers under the waistband of underwear, not allowing you a second more to protest before tearing them effortlessly off of your body.
“Now, are you gonna follow my instructions or will I have to pick you up and set you down where you belong?” He asks in a gruff whisper, his blue eyes darkening with desire.
“And where exactly do you think I belong?” You ask him defiantly, pulling at his last thread of patience.
“You-“ He growls, grasping your wrists in a punishing grip and yanking you to your feet. He jerks you towards him as he looms over you, his head dipped down to hold your gaze and his impossibly hard cock pressing against your abdomen, leaving a smear of precum across the soft skin of your belly.
“You belong wrapped around me.” He murmurs, cupping your jaw gently and brushing the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip in an affectionate sentiment that felt like such a stark contrast to the aggression he’d just been displaying. It was the little gestures that betrayed that dominance in him, that assured you that this powerful man standing so needy before you loved you so much that he’d do anything for you without question.
You lean into his touch and he lets out a low and breathy moan.
“You belong wrapped around me, momma.” He continues. “Crying out my name. Soakin’ my cock with your sweet, sweet-“ He pauses, his length twitching as he sucks in a sharp breath. “Fuck, I need you.” he chokes out, settling his hands on each side of your hip and he lifts you effortlessly, sinking you down inch by inch onto his throbbing cock.
He plants his feet and bends his knees, supporting your weight as he cups your ass, kneading the soft flesh while he allows you the opportunity to anchor your arms around his neck. A shameless moan rises from your throat, your head tipping back in the pleasure of him buried balls deep within you as he walks you backwards to press your back to the wall. A low and cocky chuckle is all the warning he gives you before he draws his hips back, thrusting up into you hard enough to kiss your cervix. Choked gasps tear from your chest as he picks up a steady rhythm, massaging your aching walls with every deep rut of his hips.
“I thought-“ He hissed through gritted teeth, dipping his head to nip at your pulse point. “You said nothing would help.”
You shake your head, mumbling incoherently and letting your head fall against your shoulder to allow him further access to the sensitive skin of your neck. “Seems like it’s helping.” He muses, licking a long stripe up the column of your throat. You whimper, tightening your legs around his waist as he slows his pace into long, deep strokes, groaning as he savors the way you grip him, the feeling of your building orgasm causing his hips to stutter just the slightest.
“Fuck, momma. You have.. the most.. perfect.. cunt.” He rasps out, emphasizing each of the last words with a brutal thrust.
You break with that last deep roll of his hips, the tension that was coiled tight in your abdomen snapping with a burst of white hot ecstacy, a broken cry escaping your heaving chest as your walls spasm around him.
“Oh God, that’s it. Come on my cock, come all over daddy’s cock.” He grunts, snapping his hips and increasing his tempo to fuck you through the dizzying waves of your release.
“Jamie..” You whimper, reaching a trembling hand to caress his jaw.
His name on your lips is the sweetest fucking sound, causing his breath to catch and his eyes flutter closed with a low and raspy moan. He turns his head to press a kiss to your palm before you trail your fingertips down his shoulders in a featherlight touch. He buries his face into your neck, his short, sharp pants hot against your skin, his movements growing sloppy and erratic as he hangs on by a mere thread.
“I’m- I-“ He chokes out, sinking his teeth into your shoulder to muffle the primal groan that rips through his chest as his balls draw up and his cock pulses, emptying himself inside you with one last powerful thrust.
He’s still for a moment, working to catch his breath before he tightens his arms around you, peppering gentle kisses along your jaw as he lowers you to the floor on wobbly legs and you sway, stumbling forward slightly.
“Momma.” He says softly, splaying a large hand against the base of your skull and drawing you into his chest. “You alright?”
“Yeah, baby. I’m alright.” You assure him, a hum of satisfaction rumbling in his chest under your ear. “I’m feeling much, much better.”
He smiles, tucking your head under his chin just to feel you close to him a moment longer.
“C’mon, baby. Let’s get you in a hot bath.”
His hands trail along your spine in a soothing motion, goosebumps prickling along your flushed skin in response to his touch.
“To have and to hold.” He whispers, pressing a firm kiss to your temple.
You grin against his chest, closing your eyes and inhaling his scent.
“And to fuck whenever you want.”
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#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes smut#avengers smut#marvel smut
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just for tonight
a/n: sure, I was vigilantly working on a different wip (a very long one that needed a lot of strength to get through) but then this whole fantasy came to me and i just couldn't stop myself... at least i downgraded the idea from a full-fledged series (which i sadly very much do not have the time for) to just a slutty little one shot in an au that i can always pop back into whenever the itch pops up (or when anyone has a slutty request for it hehe).
summary: before you could even consider the possible consequences, a desperate request then fell from your lips, “well, what if I’m not asking you to be with me? What if it’s just for tonight? What if I’m only asking you to be with me for one night? Would you give me that?” you blinked up at him, scarcely breathing at all, “would you be mine just till the sun comes up?”
warnings: bodyguard!bucky barnes x reader, smut, reader's mom is the british ambassador to france, age gap (10-15 years), tattooed!bucky (both a metal arm and tattoos as picked in a poll by you), beefy!bucky, forbidden romance, posh political party, alcohol consumption, wet dream, lingerie, stockings, one night stand (except we already know those fools can't keep it to just one night), kissing, dirty talk, manhandling, size kink, oral, fingering, impact play, squirting, gaping, belly bulge, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie
word count: 4907
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“You sure, you don’t want some?” you squinted over at your bodyguard as you lowered the champagne flute from your lips, “this shit costs more than my dress, which is really saying something,” you pointed to the red silk gown that hung from your frame, “this is Dior.”
“I’m good, miss,” Bucky uttered, tight-lipped as always.
“Right, sorry,” you sat the glass down at the tall table you stood beside, “can’t drink while on duty.”
Posh parties such as the one tonight were always a bit of a drag to get through. Even though you’d been hauled along for most of your life, they’d never gotten any more amusing.
But when your mother hired Barnes to be your personal bodyguard a few months back, the thought of getting dolled up just to have a bunch of provoking politicians talk your ear off about ideas you’d never in a million years support, somehow didn’t seem as bad as it used to now that he was constantly at your side.
It had been a little incident involving your phone getting hacked, an explicit video nearly getting leaked, one that had been made for an ex who lived in another country to make the distance more barrable, and a few threatening messages from the perpetrator that had been the reason for your new shadow.
Though you’d been resistant at first, storming into your mother’s office to state that you were a grown woman and didn’t need a babysitter just because someone tried to exploit an old sex tape that in your opinion wasn’t even that big of a deal, swiftly got squashed when a then stranger cleared his throat behind you and shared the more gruelling threats that had been made alongside the hacking.
You’d hoped and prayed that he’d turn out to be a pain, that his personality could squash the feelings that fluttered inside of you whenever you looked at him, but unfortunately, he wasn’t an asshole. He was quiet, professional to a fault, but he wasn’t a dick. If anything, all of the silence and all of the glances to always keep track of you made the crush worse. It made you feel as if you were in a Jane Austen novel, reading between the lines of subtext your unreliable brain came up with.
“You tired?” he asked as a yawn rolled out of you.
“Mhm,” you hummed behind the palm you had brought up to your lips.
“The car’s ready to take you back to the embassy whenever you are.”
A grateful smile twitched at your lip as you offered him a small nod of confirmation, “I’ll just go tell my mom.”
The ambassador, your mother, had her back turned to you as she talked business with a small group of people even though the hour had grown late.
You waited for a sliver of a break before you tapped her on the shoulder and whispered in her ear.
“Hey, mom?” her palm found yours as she turned to look at you, “I’m gonna head home.”
“Oh, alright,” she leaned in and pressed a small peck to your cheek, “see you tomorrow, love.”
“Bye,” you gave her hand one last squeeze before heading out of the elegant venue, your guard still only a few paces behind you.
A dusty drizzle met your skin as you exited onto the midnight streets of Paris. The sensation made you want to walk home, though you still followed Bucky to the black car already waiting and slipped in when he opened the back door for you.
The light from the city reflected on the back of his metal hand as it gripped the steering wheel. You could faintly spot the prominent veins on the other one dance beneath the inked skin as it did the same, tattoos you still ached to discover just how far they stretched beneath his dark suit.
Though soon your gaze flickered away from his silhouette as he drove, and fluttered out to the glittering cityscape rolling by, the vision of which swiftly lulled you to sleep.
When you arrived home, Bucky’s steely eyes found your slumbering form in the rear-view mirror. You didn’t rouse when he opened your door and carefully picked you up into his arms. You didn’t wake either as he carried you inside, all the way up to your bedroom, and layed you down on your bed.
Gently, he removed your heels and quietly placed them down on the hardwood floor before he grabbed your duvet and tugged it over your form.
But just as he moved to leave your side, half asleep you caught his hand.
“Don’t go…” you murmured hazily, eyes still shut.
And so, he didn’t.
Bucky simply reached for the tufted chair nearby and, as silently as he could, scooted it closer to the bed.
Barely an hour passed before you woke.
Before you even blinked open your eyes, your fingers began to slide down your body as the sinful dream you’d been blessed with still lingered in your foggy brain.
Though when your eyes did flutter open and discovered the star of the dream sitting in a chair right next to you, your hand halted its voyage, and you sucked in a startled breath.
“You okay?” he asked softly as you blinked a few times.
“Uh,” the throbbing that still lingered from the dream probably wasn’t going to fade any faster with him sitting there with his unwavering stare, “yeah, I’m–, uhm…” you propped yourself up on your elbow before sitting up more, “I’m fine.”
“Did you have a nightmare?”
“No, it wasn’t a–…” your sentence then crumbled as you sucked in a breath, “what are you doing watching me sleep?”
As you met his gaze, he then uttered, “you asked me to stay.”
Your eyes then widened, “I did?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh…” though you couldn’t recall, heat still began to bloom on your cheeks, “I’m sorry, I didn’t–”
“It's alright,” his shoulders offered a faint shrug.
Averting your gaze, you noticed that you were still in your dress. You weren’t quite sure if it pleased you or not that Bucky didn’t try to strip it off you, though it was probably less the moral intentions and more the fantasy of him peeling it off of you that swayed you.
“Were you just planning on sleeping in that chair all night?” you asked.
“No,” he shook his head, “I wasn’t planning on sleeping at all.”
A tinge of guilt stung in your chest, “I’m really sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, I must have been asleep or something…” you then swung your legs over the side of the bed and got up. As your fingers raised up to pluck off your sparkling earrings, your feet began to carry you in the direction of your wardrobe. Dropping the jewellery off in a small porcelain bowl on the opposite bedside table, you then glanced back at your bodyguard and said, “you don’t have to stay any longer, you can go back to your room and get some sleep.”
Offering you a nod, he then began to walk towards the door.
Though, as you reached back to undo your dress, you abruptly uttered, “wait,” and he stopped before his steely fingers could enclose around the door handle. Turning to glance back at you, a bold request then hesitantly fell from your lips, “could you maybe help unzip me?”
He barely made a noise, simply hummed quietly in response before his slow stride carried him towards your frame as it twisted for your back to be turned to him.
When you felt his touch on the zipper, tugging it down ever so slowly, your breath came in ragged, and your eyes fluttered shut. You swore you felt his radiating heat seep into you as he exposed more of your goosebump-ridden spine.
As the straps tumbled over your shoulders, your hands came up to your chest to hold it up even though you wished for nothing more than to let it drop before him.
And when the zipper finally reached its end, he lingered right behind you just long enough for you to catch the tether of it. Slowly, as if you were dealing with a skittish bird, you rotated around. You didn’t dare to look him in the eyes as you let yourself follow that magnetic pull you’d been trying to keep at bay. Your gaze flickered up to his lips as heated puffs of air seeped from your lungs and you slowly, hypnotically, inched closer.
But then Bucky opened his mouth and said in a soft and quiet tone, “what are you doing?” making you halt, though not pull back.
“Please don’t act like you don’t already know… I know you do…”
“You can’t,” he uttered, though didn’t move to walk away either as he captured your gaze, “we can’t, alright?”
“Why not?” you breathed, your eyes returning to his lips, “is it really that important for you to stay professional over everything else? Or is it that I’m just a job to you?” your heart felt as if it was gonna beat straight out of your chest, “you know I like you, I know you do. You notice everything, so of course you know. Am I right?”
A long exhale then flowed from his lungs before the faintest of nods tilted his head, “…yeah.”
“And I have eyes too, I’ve seen the way you look at me,” a shiver trickled down your spine, “so, are you really gonna just stand there and pretend you don’t feel something too? Just go back to your own room and continue to protect me like nothing’s going on?”
“Y/n, I can’t be with you,” he shook his head heavily, “you know I can’t.”
Can’t or won’t?
Before you could even consider the possible consequences, a desperate request then fell from your lips, “well, what if I’m not asking you to be with me? What if it’s just for tonight? What if I’m only asking you to be with me for one night? Would you give me that?” you blinked up at him, scarcely breathing at all, “would you be mine just till the sun comes up?”
As if your quiet whispers melted him completely, your bodyguard breathed, “…fuck…” and the next thing you knew, he’d grabbed your face and seized your lips.
It was like something inside of him had snapped, something you had shattered, with the way that he kissed you as if he’d been drowning and your lips were oxygen.
As you lost yourself in the sensation of his tongue dancing across your own, you let the red dress drop down your body, passed the sheer stockings that clung around your thighs, to the floor. Like fire, one of his hands disappeared from your cheek and ran down your frame, grazing over the black lingerie that was now exposed.
Though heated and hungry at first, the kiss soon softened into lighter pecks.
With his metal hand, he held your face close to his as he withdrew from the kiss, an action you weren’t quite ready for as you dreamily trailed after him a bit, longing for his lips.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” his hot breath fanned across your features.
“Yes,” you whispered swiftly.
But as you dizzily blinked up at him, he simply hummed for you to elaborate, “hm?”
“Yes, I want you,” goosebumps tingled across your skin.
“You want me to what?” his thumb swiped over your cheekbone.
“I want you to–, to–…” you fumbled as you felt your desire drip and soak your panties, making them cling to your aching core.
“To what, huh?”
“To–… fuck me,” the embarrassingly desperate words tumbled out your mouth.
“You want me to fuck you?” his unwavering stare briefly dropped to your parted lips.
“Yes,” the syllable rushed out of you.
“Say it again,” he tilted his chin.
“I want you to fuck me.”
“Louder,” his feet began to shift, causing yours to shuffle back as well.
“I want you to fuck me.”
“One more time,” his hand had dropped down to your jaw and his fingers curled slightly to dent your soft cheeks.
“I want you to fuck me, please!”
With the hold he had on you, he swiftly dipped down and pressed his lips to yours once more. The world then fell out from under you as his grasp scooped down your frame and plucked you up.
Your arms tangled around his neck right before your back collided with the closet door and your lips tilted away from his as a short squeak slipped out. The distance however lent Bucky to let his kisses dance down the length of your neck and across your cleavage, so perfectly framed by the sheer fabric of your bra.
Though the hickeys he began to plant across your skin made your eyes roll in your skull, your fingers still captured his tie and tugged him back up for your lips to crash against his. As you moved to push his blazer off, his sturdy grip on you shifted though still held you close as the jacket fell from his burly frame and your palms swiftly scooped over his broad shoulders and down his chest, now one layer closer to letting you actually get to feel the furnace roiling beneath.
Cupping his face close, whimpers seeped out of you and vibrated against his lips as his fingers dug into your ass and rubbed your barely covered cunt over the palpable tent in his pants, your want surely drenching through your thin underwear and marking him as well.
You almost didn’t realise that Bucky had moved till he dropped you down on the bed. Taking a step back, his tongue briefly flicked across his breathless lips as his fingers lifted to tug his tie off.
Staring directly into your soul, he uttered, “take your bra off,” as he tossed the tie to the floor and your fingers scrambled to fulfil his request. When you flung the lingerie to the ground, right next to his crumbled tie, the cool night air kissed your pebbly nipples and Bucky let out a murmured curse right before bending down to press his lips to yours.
Balanced on your elbows, you parted your lips and let his tongue sweep across your own. His touch coasted down your frame, barely granting your tits any attention before his grasp hooked around your thighs and yanked you closer to the edge of the mattress. A surprised yelp escaped you at first at the sudden shift, but as the sting of saliva, that had lingered and connected you from your sloppy kiss, snapped back against your skin, the short cry morphed into a fizzy giggle.
The light laugh however faded away when you watched him sink to his knees at the foot of the bed. Your legs curled up even further on either side of you, though you weren’t quite sure if that was you or him pushing them up and cracking you open that much more. You could feel his breath hit your pantie-clad core as his gaze fixated on the soaked spot right over your puff.
When his palm slid up your inner thigh, he only had to reach out his thumb for the broad pad to ghost over your covered slit. His eyes swiftly flickered up to capture yours, checking your reaction as you began to squirm from his feathery light touch.
Hooking his finger in the gusset, he pulled it to the side and a glossy string stretched out and clung to the fabric as he revealed your glistening pussy.
A breathy moan billowed out of you as he began to touch you, rolling your little pearl beneath his touch. Finding your eyes once more, he held your gaze as he then leaned down to press a gentle kiss over your clit.
“This okay?” his voice vibrated against your bundle of nerves, making you twitch.
“Mhm,” you nodded foggily, “you can do anything you want.”
“Anything?” his lips twitched into a smirk as his fingers stretched from where they were clutching your panties to brush over your button.
“Yeah,” you breathed, “fucking anything.”
Your mouth then hung agape at the sight of him dipping down to ruthlessly taste your desire. It didn’t take long before he lost himself in you so fiercely that he momentarily leaned back only to rip your underwear off. Both of his hands curved around your bottom, raking across your skin as he drew you even closer to his tongue and dragged it through your wet folds.
Bumping his nose against your clit, he let himself make out with your cunt a moment longer before planting a farewell peck over your pearl and pulling back. A dollop of spit dropped from his lips down onto your pussy. Catching the drop with his fingers before it slid away, he rubbed it into your own juices and made you that much more of a mess.
“O-oh,” you moaned as he slowly slid a long finger into you after teasing your weepy entrance enough to make you shiver.
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groaned at the soppy sounds his efforts conjured.
Craning down to kiss your clit sloppily, Bucky then slid his ring finger in beside the other, curving them gently as he reached even deeper.
When he momentarily retracted his digits to land a small tap over your puffy petals, the smile that bloomed on your face only egged him on further. Plugging you back up, he then retracted and repeated the slap though with more ferocity.
Your head began to lull a bit as he brought his vibranium digits down to roll your clit and his fingers began to fuck you harder, not faster, but with an intent that made your pussy sing for him.
With your thighs trembling, they nearly slammed shut as you felt the end near, but your bodyguard only slid his strong metal forearm over your legs, hooking it right under both of your bent knees, to keep you spread nice and open for him.
The veins on the back of his inked hand popped from how fiercely his fingers rocked within you.
Stretching his thumb up to strum your clit, he tried to sneak a third finger inside of you as he felt your walls begin to flutter around him.
“That’s it, I’ve got you,” as he always did in every manner, evidently. A smile curved at his lips as your eyes fluttered closed and a symphony of moans flowed out of you with every last tender stroke he offered you to carry you over the edge, “atta girl.”
Melted against the sheets, you caught your breath as he planted one last peck on your inner thigh before standing back up.
Slowly, with his gaze ever glued on you, he unbuttoned his shirt, gradually revealing the silver shine of the dog tags that hung from his neck and the tattoos that sprawled across his skin. Going all the way up from the hand still shiny with your essence, the ink swirled up his right arm, across his pecs, down his back and even curved over to his left shoulder and intentionally tangled into the gnarly scares sprouting from the border of his prosthetic.
When the button-up hit the floor, his fingers drifted down to unhurriedly remove his belt, pulling it out of the loops, he let it join the shirt before he undid his pants and let his cock spring free.
“Jesus christ…” your jaw couldn’t help but drop to the floor as your eyes fluttered at the intimidating reveal.
Noticing the anxiety that peeked through your lust-ridden expression, his low voice found your ears, “what? Did you change your mind?”
“No, I just–…” you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his fat cock as it throbbed before you, “I got a bit nervous all of a sudden.”
“No reason to be nervous, baby,” he breathed out a smile as his fist curled around his girth.
“Oh really?” you nearly began to laugh.
“You’ll be fine,” drool threatened to escape the corner of your lips as he slowly began to stroke himself, “trust me.”
“Really? Because I’m not so sure I’ll be able to take that…”
“You will,” he uttered calmly as he dipped down to give you a kiss, “don’t worry,” a hand slid into your hair as he cradled your face and ushered your gaze to find his, “you know I’d never hurt you, right?”
“Yeah.”
“So, you’ll be fine,” his thumb curved to sweep over your cheek a few times.
“Yeah,” you gently nodded and repeated after him, “I’ll be fine.”
“That’s my girl,” he smiled. Kissing you once more, he then pressed a peck to your forehead before his grasp found your hips and he suddenly flipped you around, onto your stomach.
Helping you up onto your hands and knees, a hazy smile stretched across your features as he bent down over you and pressed kisses all along your spine. Dragging his bulbous tip through your sopping folds, he then teased you for so long, never granting you any more than a dizzying nudge, that whines began to escape from you.
“P-please,” you heard yourself beg as your fingers bunched up the sheets.
“What?” he continued to flick and tap your swollen clit with the head of his heavy cock.
“I–I want it–, plea–, please fuck me,” you blubbered desperately.
“Oh, now you want it, huh?” you could hear the smirk that dominated his face, “suddenly not so nervous anymore about me stretching you out, are you?”
“Bucky, plea–, o-oh–,” you felt your limbs tremble beneath you as he slipped the very tip inside.
His efforts were so slow at first, gradually giving you more of his length and just shallowly fucking you till you blossomed and opened up for him.
Gradually, his thrusts began to ease from a mind-numbingly slow pace to something that truly scrambled your brain. You soon lost yourself completely to the molten sensation of his fat girth steadily splitting you open.
Though when he finally bottomed out within you, a shrill gasp slipped out passed your lips and your frame shuttered beneath him.
Drawing his hips back just enough for you to regain the ability to fill your lungs with oxygen once more, you heard him murmur in your ear, “what, is it too much dick for you?” retraining his thrusts slightly, he kept his tip from kissing your cervix, “that better or is it still too deep for you?” his hands dented your hips.
“N-no, no, it feels so good, it’s just–,” a whimper slipped out of you and broke up your slurring, “you’re so fucking big, I’ve never–,” you felt like you could feel him all the way up in your throat, “no one’s ever been that fucking deep before.”
One of his hands curved down to your clit at the exact same time as your own did. As they met, he let your own fingers swirl over your puffy pearl as his simply lingered, till he suddenly grasped your wrist and gently led it away from your pussy, further up to your lower stomach.
“That deep?” he pressed down on your palm and let you discover the dull bulge that formed in your belly at every one of his dizzying thrusts, “has no one ever stuffed you that full before? Not even one of your pretty toys you play with so often?”
“Nuh-uh,” you panted as his warm contact dissipated from your spine and he straightened back up.
A gravelly moan slipped out past Bucky’s lips as he glanced down to see how tightly your creamy pussy was gripping onto his cock. Your fingers returned to the sheets as his wide palm came down to slap your ass, your back arching at the impact and consequently angling his efforts so that the details of his dick brushed against your g-spot in the most heavenly way imaginable.
He only buried himself inside of you a few more times, his heavy sack tapping against your buzzing clit at every electric buck, till your pussy gushed around his fat girth.
“There you go,” he pulled out only to insistently flick your puffy pearl with his tip, “fucking hell,” he then plunged his cock all the way back in before dragging it back out, “keep going,” ushering more squirt to drizzle out. He kept up the overwhelming pattern till your pussy stopped gushing for him, till he’d pushed you through the overstimulation and your cunt slowly began to relax again for him. Eventually, when he steadily withdrew from you, he craned his neck to relish in the way your little hole had stretched out and accommodated so well for him, it even winking sinfully at him every time he pulled out, “good fucking girl,” he growled at the sight, “told you so, you’d do just fine,” your shaky frame jolted as he slapped your ass again, “look at you now fucking gaping for me, christ…”
With a ring of your cream staining the base of his cock, he let himself return to your warmth for longer than just a few seconds, fucking you with such ferocity that your pliant form, still molten and unsteady from your second orgasm, collapsed onto the mattress below.
Though he successfully caught you before you could slip off his cock entirely, he still let you drop down on the bed, though softened the fall for you, before he followed suit.
The weight of him on top of you felt so comforting and soothed on your tingly skin.
“You okay?” he kissed your cheek before spreading your stocking-clad legs with his own.
“Hm,” you nodded foggily and felt yourself drool onto the sheets as he squished you further into the mattress.
Your shaky moans filled the bedroom as he slid back inside, “fuck, you feel so good…” sloppily nipping just below your ear before he picked up his pace.
The chain that dangled from his neck felt cool on your skin and acted as a stark contrast to how hot his body felt pressed against your back.
“You think you can be a good girl and cum for me again?” he groaned into your ear as his efforts echoed sloppily, “let me feel that pretty pussy squeeze around me one last time?”
“I-I don’t know,” you trembled beneath him, every one of his deep thrusts making you jolt and gasp for air as he was practically splitting you in half.
“You don’t know?” he sweetly whispered in your ear as he curled his arms under you. One hand slid under your tit and caught your pebbly nipple in a rude pinch while the other soared down to your sore and swollen clit, “can you try for me? Try and cum again,” your eyes had fallen completely shut, so your whole reality had just become Bucky’s reassuring weight, his tantalising efforts, and his sinful whispers that seeped directly into your soul, “try and squirt for me one last time, sweetheart.”
And so, you did. It didn’t even take that long before you tumbled over one last time and your pussy creamed for him, drenching the already damp sheets beneath you, as he swiftly came as well, throbbing deep within your clenching cunt and filling your little hole up to the brim till it tried to leak and escape around his girth.
His heavy pants faded from your ear as he slowly crawled off of you, cascading a tender trail of kisses all the way down your body till he gently retraced his track of pecks and settled down next to you. Fluttering your eyes open as his palm slid up to your heated cheek, he gazed into your hazy eyes for a moment before leaning in to softly press his lips to your own.
You wanted to curl in closer to his frame, but your body was so exhausted that you could barely raise your pinkie finger. Fortunately though, as you layed there in wordless wonder, Bucky’s arms draped around you as he scooted in close, hugging you to him and gently caressing your skin as you continued to blink back into his ocean eyes, not uttering a word out of fear that you’d ruin the blissful moment.
After perhaps a small eternity had passed, he briefly raised his head up slightly to catch sight of the small clock on your bedside table.
“There’s still a few more hours left before the sunrise…” he settled back down beside you.
“Oh, yeah?” a soft smile tilted up your lips as his touch began to travel south.
“Yeah,” his lips gently parted in a silent moan as his fingers slid through your sore folds. His stare was transfixed on how your brows knitted together and a quiet hiss slipped out of you as he swirled over your sensitivity, playing with the hot load he’d pumped into you as it slowly leaked out, one of his digits too brash not to try and stuff it back inside, “what do you think?” sharing your breath, he inched in and let his nose nuzzle against your own, “do you want me to be yours just a little bit longer or would you rather I’d return to my own bed?”
© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble
#lea’s writing#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes smut#bodyguard!bucky#bodyguard!bucky barnes#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x fem!reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes hc#bucky x reader#sebastian stan smut#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes oneshot#winter soldier smut
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Bucky comfort. What I need like air right now is a sweet, chubby baker Bucky who notices his bunny is down. She doesn't say anything out of the ordinary when she comes to visit the bakery, kissing his soft scruffy cheek before taking a seat at the booth with a fresh Danish he made.
Cherry, because that's her favorite.
He can tell something is off when her smile doesn't quite meet her eyes and she's curled up in his hoodie quietly nibbling on the pastry instead of clinging onto him like she usually does.
He doesn't like it. Not one bit.
He loves when his girl hugs his thick waist tightly from behind while his works at the dough and rolls out croissants. Her little hands usually knead at the fluff around his belly. Instead she seems to be in her own world, wrapping her arms tightly around herself and pushing herself further into her seat to hide from the rest of world. You tell him you have to run a few errands and he doesn't miss your steamy eyes and small voice as you scurry off out of the bakery and it just adds to his worry.
Bucky was having none of that.
He lets Sam and Steve take over a couple of his orders, cleaning off and deciding to go straight home to you instead, he knows you don't actually have errands to do, he always makes sure to take care of them anyway. When he arrives back home, he isn't surprised to see your smaller form curled in a ball on the couch, eyes wide, surprised to see him.
"Bucky?" the quiver in your voice gives away that you'd been crying moments earlier.
"C'mere baby bunny" Bucky cooed, scooping you up in his beefy arms, and cradling your body to his, holding you to his chest while you nuzzle into his neck. "Wanna tell me what's going on in that little head of yours" He whispered against your hair, stroking it while you pull back, giving him a shrug. He knows you don't always want to talk about it but he's going to do what he can to make you feel better
"I'm not sure" You say with a sigh, your mind still running around a thousand miles a minute. Nothing particularly bad happened but one thought led to another; questioning if you were happy with your job, if you were happy with where you were in life, if you were someone Bucky would actually even want to be with, someone so sweet and loving and handsome like him, all your friends seemed to have found their footing and you were still here so unsure-
"Shhh" he kissed your forehead as if he could hear your insecurities screaming at you from inside your head. "What do you need sweet girl" His lips brush against the top of your head, breathing in your soft scent of peach body wash and vanilla lotion. He has you perfectly tucked into his much larger form, as if he were trying to protect his baby bunny from the rest of the world.
"Cuddles?" You cling onto him, sighing contently when he shifts so he can wrap you up in his arms while you bury your face into his chest. Everything about him is so comforting, if you could find a way to burrow yourself into him, you would. Your wiggling and shifting to get even closer makes Bucky chuckle, cooing at the whine you let out when he pulls away.
"Not going anywhere bunny, just getting us more comfortable" You're not sure how he does it but with minimal effort and movement he's helped you strip off all your clothes along with his, tossing the fluffy throw to cover you both up. You love feeling his bare skin against yours, practically purring now that you can feel every bit of him.
The rumble of your stomach doesn't go unnoticed by Bucky and he makes sure to wrap you up in a blanket burrito before getting up and padding over to the kitchen.
"Where are you going now" You pout and he cups your face with the gentlest touch.
"You're hungry bub, I'm just getting a snacky" and with that he walks off, grinning at the giggle you let out watching his perfectly perky ass saunter off.
"Yummyy" You wiggle happily from under your blanket at both the sight of you very pretty, very naked boyfriend carrying in a plate of more Danishes and a bunch of other pastries and fruit he grabbed on the way out when he left the bakery.
Bucky adores seeing you like this, setting down the snacks so he can hold you again when you give him grabby arms. He doesn't let you lift a fingers, feeding you another Danish, kissing the crumbs that clung onto your lips. He runs you a bath next. His bunny doesn't feel like moving much so he's happy to carry you there while you wrap yourself around him like a koala bear.
By the end of the night he loves seeing the light return to your eyes, your soft giggles when he has you perched on the bathroom counter doing your skin care routine with him.
"Keep your little paws to yourself, doll" Bucky swats away your hands when you reach for the lotion, taking over the job for himself. He's more than happy to massage up and down your calves to your thighs. He massages all the knots out of your back and shoulders before carrying you off to bed again for more cuddles and kisses.
Anyway, this was sitting in the drafts for weeds and it's still what I need rn.
#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x f!reader#chubby bucky#chubby bucky barnes#chubby bucky x reader#chubby baker bucky#baker bucky barnes#marvel fluff#bucky barnes fanmix#bucky barnes fan fiction#bucky barnes x reader fluff#bucky barnes x f reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes comfort#bucky barnes comfort fic#bucky barnes comfort fic#bucky comfort#soft bucky barnes#soft bucky#bucky barnes x fluff#chubby bucky barnes fluff#avengers fluff
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Gym Buddy
Pairing: Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: You have a hard time keeping your eyes off of your gym crush.
Word Count: 2.3k
Warnings: none
A/N: Shoutout to my gym girlies out there, this one's for you 🫵🏻
Masterlist
———
“What are we hitting today?” your friend asks you as you both enter the gym. You look over to the receptionist and greet him with a smile. Adjusting the gym bag on your shoulder, you turn to your friend and shrug.
“I was thinking legs?” you suggest as the two of you head to the locker area. You usually go to the gym alone, but today was thankfully one of the rare occasions your schedule aligned with your friend’s so you took this opportunity to invite her to the gym with you— something you used to do back when you were still in college.
Your friend nods in response before beginning to stuff her locker with the stuff she didn’t need, you mirroring her actions. “Quads, hams, glutes, or all of the above?” she chuckles, pulling out her shaker bottle and scooping in some pre-workout.
“I did quads last time, are you cool with hams and glutes?” you ask to which she nods again. “But you can do quads if you want.”
This time she shakes her head, “Nah, you know me. I can never say no to a good glute workout.” She turns to her side and nudges your hip with hers, drawing a chuckle from you.
You walk towards the workout area, your eyes scanning the room and immediately stopping by the benches. You feel your heart hammer in your chest as you watch him do bench presses— his chest puffing out and leaving no room for imagination thanks to the compression shirt he was wearing.
Bucky Barnes started going to your gym a few months ago, and to say you were shocked to see him there the first time was an understatement. Not that you were complaining though, but you practically fell off the treadmill you were using when you saw him walk in for the first time donning an oversized shirt, a pair of sweatpants, and a baseball cap.
Safe to say that he is definitely your gym crush, and you would be lying when you say that you look forward to going to the gym just to see if he was there.
Your gaze stayed on him as your friend led you to the Smith machine. You glance at his face, eyebrows furrowed in concentration and mouth letting out huffs of breath as he raises the 100kg dumbells above him.
Goddamn.
Your attention is brought back to your friend as she begins loading the bar with a few weights to start your first exercise. You snap out of your daze and help her by loading up the other side before finally beginning.
Taking turns, the two of you did a few sets of back squats, but your mind was definitely elsewhere. You desperately tried not to look at Bucky for too long, afraid that your friend might notice or worse, you get caught by Bucky staring at him.
“Okay, what’s up? I feel like you left your brain back at home,” your friend joked as you took a break before starting your next exercise. You roll your eyes, taking a swig from your water bottle, ignoring her question.
Your eyes subconsciously trail to Bucky, once again. This time, he was hunching over the bench as he stared at his phone, chest rising and falling at a steady pace. Your friend follows your gaze and hums in realization.
“Ah, I see,” she pipes up with a smirk on her face, “you got hots for the Avenger.”
You laugh softly, turning back to her and shrugging your shoulders. “Guilty as charged.”
“Why don’t you go for it?” she pesters, causing you to rapidly shake your head. “No way, I’m scared he might just glare at me or something.”
She scoffs before beginning to look for other plates to load the smith machine. She looks around your area only to find none that would suffice for your next exercise. So she scans the gym in search of heavier plates only to find a stack of 25’s that were conveniently placed beside Bucky.
She smirks before trudging her way towards him despite your attempts to pull her back. “Come back here!” you whisper sharply, but ultimately give up once she reaches him.
You see her gently tap Bucky on the shoulder, prompting the super soldier to turn and face her. You feel your whole body tense and your face starts to heat up. You watch as your friend points to the stack of plates beside Bucky and you see him nod and begin to stand up.
Oh god, is he coming over here? You thought to yourself. Sure enough, you see your friend and Bucky each pick up a plate and head towards your direction. Your eyes briefly meet his, causing you to turn away and act busy by scrolling through your phone.
You feel your heartbeat quicken as you see them grow closer through your peripheral until they are standing right in front of the machine. “Thank you so much!” your friend smiles as they both load the weights onto the bar. “I would’ve asked my friend to help me out, but the pre-workout hasn’t kicked in for her, you know?” she jokes, earning a soft chuckle from Bucky and a glare from you.
“It’s no problem,” Bucky says, gaze shifting between the two of you, a shy smile on his lips. “Have a nice workout,” he adds, before heading back over to the benches.
Your friend turns to you, a wicked smile on her lips. “See? He won’t bite,” she chides, causing you to roll your eyes before heading to the machine to start RDLs. “Unless you’re into that sort of stuff,” she continues, earning a smack on the shoulder from you.
“I’m never working out with you again.”
—
The next few days were not as uneventful as you’d hoped. You thought by going to the gym alone like you usually do would mean that you’d have more time to just subtly watch Bucky from across the room without worrying about any friends that would force you to interact with him.
But just a few days after your initial interaction with Bucky, you were put in a situation where you had the chance to look at him up close once again.
You were doing tricep pushdowns on the cable machine when you felt a hand tap you on the shoulder, causing you to jump. You turn around to meet the pair of blue eyes you so desperately gazed at all the time.
You were frozen in your spot as you took in how attractive he looked in his compression shirt, arms bulging by the sleeves. You were snapped out of your daze when you realized he was talking to you. “I’m sorry, what?” you asked sheepishly, removing one of your earphones.
Bucky smiled shyly in return. “Are you using the other cable?” he asked, pointing at the machine next to you. You shook your head, heat rushing to your face upon the thought of him working out beside you. “No, go ahead.”
He smiled again before positioning himself beside you and starting his workout. You tried your best not to get distracted by the godly sight next to you, but you didn’t muster enough courage to talk to him after that.
The next time you talk was the week after that. You were doing a particularly heavy set of dumbbell shoulder presses (while keeping note of Bucky somewhere behind you doing bicep curls). It was already your third set, and you were aiming to push out 12 reps until you started to feel your weaker arm give out.
You braced your core harder as you pushed yourself to get the last rep in until you saw Bucky drop the dumbbells he was holding to rush behind you. “I got you,” he mumbled, lightly placing his hands just below your triceps to give you stability.
You tried to ignore your heart that was hammering in your chest as you were finally able to fully lift the dumbbells over your head. You moved to lower them to put them down, but Bucky suddenly wrapped his hands on your wrists. “All you, give me one more.”
Jesus Christ.
You pushed yourself one more time, ignoring the pain in your shoulders as you gave it your all. Once you finally put the dumbbells down, you turned to him. “Thanks,” you smiled, which Bucky returned.
“No problem,” he replied, but before you could say anything else, he was already walking back to his spot to continue his set. You were extra energized to workout that day.
Which brings you to a week after that. You were just stepping out of your car when you spot Bucky getting off his bike. You subtly watch as he took his helmet off, and revel in the way he tied his hair into a small bun by the nape of his neck.
God, you were down bad.
You were too busy trying not to drool and fail to notice that he was actually staring back at you. It wasn’t until he gave you a shy nod when you snap back to reality and return the gesture but throwing him a sheepish wave.
“What are you training today?” he calls out as he watches you take your gym bag from the trunk of your car and slung it on your shoulder. “Oh, I’m doing pull today. What about you?” you ask, silently hoping he was planning to do the same.
“Mind if I join you?” he asks which practically made your heart do backflips. Trying to hide your giddiness, you give him a short nod as you and him begin to make your way inside the gym.
You enter and greet a few familiar faces as Bucky follows suit before stopping in front of the lat pulldown machine. “Are you okay with starting with this?” you ask.
“What, no warm up?” Bucky asks in return, prompting your cheeks to heat up. “I don’t warm up,” you start, “And before you lecture me, I know it’s bad… I’m just too lazy to do it.”
He chuckles softly at this as he begins to take off the sweatshirt he was wearing to reveal that he was wearing a muscle tee underneath, leaving almost no room for imagination. “S’okay. I’m too lazy to warm up sometimes too.”
You laugh as you take a seat in front of the machine, pick a favorable weight, and begin your set. You weren’t going to lie to yourself, the thought of Bucky Barnes standing just beside you to watch you do your set was both nerve wracking and motivating at the same time. Sure, you wanted to impress him with the amount of reps you could push out, but the way he was staring at you was also making your knees grow weak.
Thankfully, you finish your first set with minimal struggle before standing up and gesturing for him to go next. “That seemed a little too easy for you,” Bucky began, “I know you can lift heavier than that, doll.”
You try to ignore the way your stomach flipped upon hearing the pet name and reply with a playful scoff instead. You take a swig from your bottle as he starts his set. While lifting the whole stack, you admire the way his back muscles expand and contract without focusing too much on the soft grunts that were leaving his mouth.
Did it suddenly get too hot in here?
After a few more workouts and taking turns checking each other out, you both decide to end the day with a set of hammer curls. You watch in awe as he begins to work with a pair of 80kg dumbbells, making your weight look puny.
“If you don’t mind me asking,” you huffed as you continue your set. You see him slightly turn his head towards you in acknowledgment. “Given that you literally have a serum that makes you… you know, strong enough to lift a truck—“ he laughs at that, “why do you still work out?”
He ends his set and places his dumbbells back on the rack. “Well it sort of feels like therapy for me. When I go to the gym, it’s like— are you done with these?” he stops, pointing at the dumbbells you placed down while he was talking. You nod and before you could protest, he picks up the pair with one hand and places them back on the rack for you. “Anyway, when I go to the gym, I can forget about everything, you know? It feels nice to leave the rest of the world behind and pretend like everything is normal in my life,” he finishes.
Bucky lifts his metal arm in front of him. “This doesn’t really help with that though,” he adds, letting out a sad laugh. Your heart clenches at his sentiment, but before you know it, you blurt out, “Do you wanna get coffee after this?”
You widen your eyes at your sudden forwardness. A few weeks ago, you could barely approach him to ask help in re-racking weights, but you also never really imagined you would one day do pull with him, too. So this was sort of like a seize the day kind of thing.
Bucky, too, was caught off guard with your invitation. He never really talked to anyone when he went to the gym, preferring to just keep to himself, but there was something about you that pulled him closer. Maybe it was how friendly you were with everyone in the gym or how he saw you continuously push yourself to your limit in every exercise you do, but he was always intrigued by you.
His therapist told him to step out of his comfort zone more, so with a smile, he replies, “Only if you let me be your gym buddy from now on.”
Your smile reaches your ears as you offer him your hand, which he gladly took, “Deal.”
———
A/N: This really gives off crack energy, but hope you liked it either way ◡̈
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#the winter soldier#the winter soldier x reader#sebastian stan#sebastian stan x reader#marvel#the avengers#marvel headcannon
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◇ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟑𝟎: 𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟/𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 ◇
Let Me Help
【Synopsis】 : You didn't know what it meant to be on heat, let alone know you could have one since you weren't a wolf... but here you were, and Bucky was going to help you through it.
『W.C』 : 1.95k
-> Genre: Smut. Wolf Au. Fantasy Au. Fluff.
Paring: Werewolf!Bucky x Human!Reader
[Warnings] : Swearing. Unprotective sex. Pet names. Neck kisses, hickies. Biting. Cumming inside [don’t do that unless you wan babas] Alpha kink. Knotting. Slight choking. Rough sex. Fluff stuff. Some Omegaverse stuff
Masterlist | Kinktober list
You were a human. That fell in love with a werewolf and now you’re his mate and live in a den with all his other wolf friends that are also his pack and you are the first human to be mated to one of the wolves in this pack in history. And plus you are now experiencing what they call a heat but you aren’t a wolf and none of the she-wolves or the alchemist knows what to do so you are pacing back and forth in your bathroom waiting for your lover to come home from a full moon cleanse to tell him to help you through something you’ve never been through before….
Missing anything?
“Fuck!” Your hand slipped off the basin in the bathroom, clutching your stomach. You’ve never experienced such a pain before only being able to compare period pains or when you’ve eaten bad food. But the alchemist, Wanda had warned you since you were human the heat would be way more severe to you than a normal she-wolf. Expressing it might feel like being stabbed or disembowelment. Lovely...
You washed your face with ice-cold water multiple times to try and cool the heat rushing through you but nothing was helping. You felt like you were losing your mind and you had no idea what to do, or how to fix it. All you knew was you needed your mate and needed him now.
Maybe a shower would work? But wait... Why were you now standing under the shower head fully clothed? When did you even turn the shower on let alone get in? Your mind was jumping, hazing. Everything was happening so quickly yet standing still at the same time. You cried, sobbing out for Bucky. Crouching down you let the cold water spray on your hunched back as you hug your knees. The headache was bad and the cramps were worse. Your body was shutting down, making you wonder if this heat could kill you if not looked after.
You couldn’t let your mind slip any further, suddenly hearing the bathroom door being slammed open. A large, beefy Bucky came rushing into the shower. He wasn't wearing a shirt, probably not caring to fully dress when he turned back into his human form. His jeans were getting soaked from the water as he bent down to grab your waist, pulling you up to stand on your feet. You wanted to fall back down but his large frame caged you, holding you tightly so you wouldn't slip. His mouth found your neck sucking on just the right spot. You knew from the little research you had done that it would of most likely been the spot where your glands had been if you were a she-wolf and it was also the spot on your neck that he would mark when you get bounded as soulmates.
He had yet to do so, worried it might affect you if he would knot you. So Instead, when he found the urge to mark you when you both were having sex in the past, he would bite the pillow next to you or the couch arm, or even his own hand. Never would he sink his fang in your sweet soft flesh. His lips kiss along your jugular making you whimper. The small bit of pleasure was sending your mind into a spin. He managed to push you against the wall, tugging at your wet clothing to get it off your shaking body. He would kiss your cheeks, then your forehead, then the corner of your mouth. He would whisper just above the sound of the shower, ‘My pretty pup,’ ‘Let me take care of you,’ ‘That’s it baby, just breath.’
He threw the wet fabric out of the shower making it land on the floor somewhere out of sight. He took this moment, to gaze upon your beautiful body. He could smell you dripping down your leg, making him groan. It was enough to feel the tightness in his jeans get worse. He wanted nothing more than to lose control and knot you like he should. But you were human. Such a fragile thing. Not like a she-wolf that could take his strength. But he had no idea that was exactly what you needed at this moment. “James please, help me. It hurts.”
The cramps were becoming worse when not his touch was soothing some of the aches in your joints. You needed him inside you, desperately. “Please, I need you inside…” Fuck… dirty talk was something you rarely did, finding it too embarrassing to do. Bucky on the other hand was born to be filthy. He loved watching you squirm by the sheer motion of his voice telling you what he wanted to do to you. How he was going to defile you.
“Yeah, pup? You need my cock inside your soaking cunt?” he wanted more from you. Picking one of your legs up so he could stand close to you, rubbing his red angry tip along your slit.
“Yes please, fuck…hmm, I need you so badly. Please James.” Your soft whines got his heart reeling, pushing inside you with little effort as your heat soaked your cunt was perfect for him to slip in. He completely bottomed out in a second making you feel so unbelievably full. The ache in your body was gone for a moment, sweet relief was granted to you. But the cramps were soon coming back making you scream “Fuck me Bucky. Please hurry.”
Who was he to deny his mate, thrusting at a slow steady pace. Your hands gripped his wet biceps as the shower head was directly pouring in between both of you. The stimulation of the running water on your clit, helped your high draw closer. Bucky picked up your other leg, smoothing your body against the wall to fuck you at a harsher angle making your head fall back to hit against the tiles.
Your lover's face buried in your neck, licking and sucking on any flesh he could get to. Everything was perfect but you needed just one more thing which Bucky seemed to know, reaching down to press his thumb on your clit making you gasp clamping down on his cock while you came hard. “Fuck, Fuck, Fuck. Bucky!”
“That’s it pup, come on your mate's cock. Let me feel you come around me.” His voice growled in your ear biting at your ear lobe. He moved backwards slightly letting you wrap your arms around his neck so you could bury your face in his neck this time. You sucked on his rough skin creating your very own mark on his neck. You might not be a wolf but you certainly could still leave your mark.
“I’m coming James please!” You crashed hard, clenching around him. He kept fucking up into you, making your juices squish and squelch around his cock, dripping out onto his legs. But nothing was stopping him. He turn off the shower, needing to fuck you from a different angle.
“Hold onto the sink pup. I’m not done with you yet.” he bent you over the cold sink, making you shiver at the freezing sensation on your sensitive nipples. His cock sunk back into your quivering hole, gifting you a low grumble that ripped through Bucky’s chest. It was almost animalistic, beast-like. His like wolf was taking over. “Fuck sugar, you feel so good. So tight. My perfect pup.”
“Y-hmmm Buck…” Your hips slammed against the counter surely creating indents in your skin that would definitely bruise by the morning. His nails dug into your flesh, making crescent moon shapes while his thrusts got fast as soon approached his edge. Just a little more. Just some more and you had just had perfect timing. “Please Alpha, I need your cum inside me. Please fuck me harder. I want your knot.”
You had no idea where the name came from or why your brain was screaming at you to somehow present for him. To make him know, he could do anything to you. The name slipped off your tongue perfectly and it made his wolf howl. His hips jacked in an inhuman speed, snaking his hand around your throat he growled pooled in your ear. “Alpha hmm? You want your alpha to knot you pup? Mate you? Breed you, fill with his pups?”
Your hand banged against the mirror, smashing a crack into it but not breaking it entirely. Bucky used his hand that was on your hip to cage yours on the said mirror. Linking fingers with you as his thrusts got harder but stuttered through his unstability. “You want my mark sugar? Want to let every other wolf know you’re mine? Fuck just imagining you full and round with my pups makes me want to fuck you all night.”
“Please alpha, Make me yours.” Your cries were music to his ears. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Your his human mate, wanting to be marked, knotted and bred. God, could you get any more perfect.
“It’s okay baby when I’m done, you’ll be leaking my seed for days.” His hand got tighter on your jugular while his lips kissed along your shoulder blades before teasingly nipping at where he would mark you. Everything was so overwhelming, your cramps and all the pain you had felt were washing away being replaced with nothing by Bucky’s scent and touch.
“I’m gonna come, Alpha!” Your choked moans were breathy and short. His hand finally let go of your neck, grasping back on your hip to hold himself up. His fangs grazed your soft skin before he pierced your flesh, letting tears pool on the corners of your tears while he slowed his thrusts to empty his seed deep inside you. you came crashing down soon after. His cock growing, stretching you out, gifting you a new form of pleasure.
“That’s it Pup, deep breath.” He licked your wound, tending to it with extra care while his hand on your hip rubbed circles on your bruising skin. He lifted your left leg up, tilting it towards his body as he sat up straight, turning you around until you could wrap your legs around his waist and arms around his neck. Now facing him, he brushed your hair out of your face, littering you with kisses. You hummed, feeling slumber taking hold of you. “Come on pup. Let’s get you in bed.”
Walking with his cock still inside you was more than uncomfortable and he should have definitely not knot you on the bathroom room counter next time. But as he plopped you on the with him next to you, he helped you cuddle up to him, wrapping you in his scent. “Do you really want my pups…”
“Hmg Fuck sugar…” Bucky had to groan at the fact you didn’t call them kids but pups. Your pups. He suddenly wanted to fuck you again. Maybe when his knot dies down he will but for now, he needs you to rest. “Of course, I want our pups baby. I plan on spending the rest of my life with you.” He kissed you slowly, passionately. Your hand cupped his hand, smiling wide at his low giggles. Your legs wiggled suddenly straddling him. “Come on baby. You need to rest.”
You sat up, drawing circles with your hips. Bucky groaned gripping your waist tightly, bucking his head backwards. “I don’t need to rest. I want more….” You leaned down kissing his cheek before whispering. “Alpha….”
#bucky#1-800-jjbarnes#marvel#jjbarnes#bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes imagine#james buchanan bucky barnes#james bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes series#james barnes x reader#james bucky buchanan barnes#james barnes#james buchanan barnes x reader#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes fic#buck barnes#alpha bucky#kinktober 2023#mcu kinktober#kinktober#sebastian stan x fluff#sebastian stan x plus size reader
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My Mom Thinks You're Hot
pairing: beefy!bucky x singlemom!reader
summary: your son tries to set you up with an avenger in a grocery store
a/n: short drabble bc why not
masterlist
_______________________________________
Getting groceries might not be fun for most families but for you and your 6 year old son it's almost as fun as going to the park.
The store that you visit has small cart for kids which your son loves to push, making him feel like a big boy. It's absolutely adorable and you take a picture of him every time. You don't know how you got lucky that your son loves grocery shopping as most kids find it either boring or too stimulating which is completely normal.
"Mommy look it's Avengers cereal!"
As any other kid his age, he's obsessed with The Avengers.
"Yes it is and it's very cool but we already have cereal at home." his face falls and puts the cereal box back.
"Can we get it next time?"
"Of course honey." you chuckle when you see him do a little victory dance.
You were slowly but surely making your way through the grocery list, slowly because your son decided to stop in front every single Avengers food.
Now for your favourite.
Ice Cream.
You turn your head quickly when you hear your son squeal.
"MOMMY THE AVENGERS! CAPTAIN AMERICA! AND BUCKY!" He whisper yells
you look over to where he's pointing and it's true there stand Sam Willson and James Buchanan Barnes.
"Can we please say hi." he holds your hand and gives you his best puppy eyes. You give in since it's not every day you get to meet heroes.
"Hi! You're really cool!"
Two men look down at the 6 year old boy and smile.
"Hey champ,what's your name?" Captain America asks and crouches down to his eye level.
"That's such a cool name!"
"Thank you my mom chose it!" you immediately blush when both men look at you.
"Hi. We just wanted to say hi and uh thank you for saving the world and all that." you avoid looking at James Bucky Barnes because you might have a huge crush on him. Ever since you were a teen and studied for history you thought he was very handsome.
"All part of the job ma'am." Sam salutes you and you smile a little, he's the perfect Captain America.
"I have so many questions!"
"Honey, they are very busy we can't keep them all day. How about just one question for each of them? That's of course if you're okay with that." You look at two heroes,who reply with a nod
"Alright you heard your mom, what do you have."
He thinks so hard and finally asks.
"What's the name of your bird!?" Bucky bursts out laughing, that's not what he thought the boy would ask Sam. Your heart might have done a flip at the sound,you try to hide your face by looking at the floor.
"His name is Redwing."
"Well that's pretty boring why doesn't he have a cool name." At this the three of you laugh.
Sam looks mildly offended.
"What do you have for me?" Bucky asks and whatever he thought the boy would ask it certainly was not this.
"Mr Bucky sir - Do you have a girlfriend or boyfriend or partner? My mom thinks you're hot."
You immediately pull your son into you and cover his mouth. Bucky blushes deeply and so do you.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. We have to go right now." You're so embarrassed that you leave your full cart and go straight for the exit pulling your son by the arm.
"But he didn't answer the question." your son whines.
"We don't need to know that. That's a personal question you don't ask people!"
"Uh I don't mind answering that question." Buckys voice says and you stop in your tracks, you turn around but still avoid the eye contact.
"Really you don't have to!"
"I want to. And I'd like to ask a personal question too if that's okay with you of course?"
Your knees almost give out when you manage to make eye contact.
"No, I do not have a significant other. And I don't know how this works at this day and age, but I'd like to ask for your number,doll."
_____________________________________
some years later
"Thank you for coming guest's that I know and don't know. My mom is getting married to my dad! You should all be thanking me because I made that happen!"
You look at your now husband and smile.
Maybe it's not the way you thought you'd meet the love of your life but sure is a story your guests and son find very entertaining.
#james buchanan barnes#bucky masterlist#bucky x reader#bucky barnes#bucky imagine#bucky barnes x reader#sebastian stan characters#bucky fluff#bucky fic
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hiya love, I just found your lovely blog and I have a lil request for ya. if you aren't comfortable with the kinks, just delete the request ☺️
so like I was imagining a big beefy bucky with a big cock who really wants to get you pregnant. he's overwhelmed by how good you feel and he talks a lot about how he can't wait to see you full of him and when he finally comes, there's like a LOT of cum and it takes a while for it to stop and you're like super full of super soldier cum and pretty much instantly pregnant ?!?! ok bye
smut — eighteen plus!
heavy breeding kink, daddy kink, beefy bucky with a big fucking dick. my head is spinning after this so thank you.
hi love <3 hehe thank you for this! i love kinks <3
i’m not too keen on making reader pregnant but i love a breeding kink & in my head … bucky has the biggest one (that’s what she said)
and his cock is fucking huge! beefy bucky with a huge cock makes me fall to my knees just for him. because im thinking how toned and beefy he is and how good he looks as soon as he comes out of a shower
like he’s still dripping wet with the towel slung low to his waist, hair pulled back into a low bun at the nape of his neck with some stray pieces falling. he’s humming a song you can’t really tell what it is, you’re too distracted anyways as soon as you see that towel fall
“hey baby?” he asks quietly as you look up at his, a smirk on his lips once you realize he caught you staring at him. “got something on your mind?” you bite your lip as you shake your head coyly with your cheeks heating up. he grins, walking towards you as your sitting on the bed, back against the headrest.
“you sure?” he asks again, crawling up the length of the bed before hovering over you, your back sliding down the pillow until his left thigh is between yours, pressed snug up against your bare cunt. between all this, you forget to reply as he takes your chin in his hand and makes you look up at him.
“asked you a question, babydoll. seems like you really have something on your mind.” he trails off, letting go of your chin before trailing his fingers down your throat making your body shiver at the slight touch of his skin on yours. you nod your head, but not telling the truth.
“mm, well we both know that’s not true. but i have something on my mind,” he says softly, dipping his head down to your collarbone as you feel his thick cock press hard into your thighs. you shiver as you feel his hips move slowly, his lips sucking on your skin as his hands travel down the sides of your body. he practically worships you every single chance he gets because how could he not? he was so fucking lucky to have some one like you under his arm.
“bucky…” your whine was quiet and you weren’t sure if he would’ve heard you but of course he did. those super solider senses were sharp — especially when it came to your and your sounds.
“what is it baby?” he asks against your skin, his body entrapping you against the sheets, everything smelling like him. he pulls back a bit sitting up, spreading your thighs a bit more so he could fit right in between.
the tip of his cock pressed against your wet hole, his finger strumming through your folds as his thumb rubs your clit. you squirm in place, soft whines leaving your lips as he just stares as you with blown out eyes, curly pieces of brown hair framing his face and the subtle lighting from the soft lamps make his features pop out more.
“wanna know what i’m thinking?” you don’t have time to answer as he continues to rub your clit in slow circles as he pushes his cock slowly into your cunt stretching you out around him. he shivers as he feels how tight you are, how soaked you already are and the slight pulses of your clit under the pad of his thumb
“how you would look stuffed full of my cum…” his eyes look at you lustfully as they drop down your body to your clit. “leaking out of this pretty pussy while i fuck it back into you. getting you round with my child.” he grunts softly as you whine in response.
“yeah, baby? you’d like that huh? letting me abuse this pretty little cunt of yours anytime i want. pumping you full of my cum and making sure it sticks everytime.” he pushed deeper into your cunt as he spoke, pressing harder on your clit as you gripped his arms as he fucked you. the obscene sounds of his cock fucking your wet hole and his heavy balls slapping against you covered in your slick made your head spin.
“you feel so fucking good, babydoll… fuck…” he lets out a deep moan, digging his nails into your hips. you shivered as you heard the praise, making his sense peek up as your body leans further into him when he praises you. he takes his finger away from your clit giving you some sort of relief as he bottoms out into your cunt when he reaches over to the nightstand drawer.
you let out a moan as you feel his cock stretch your cunt out fully, arching your back and pressing your chest into his. he groans, letting his head fall before he moves his hips for a few moments getting distracted by how warm your cunt feels.
pulling the drawer open as you wrap your limbs around his big body, he pulls out a small bullet vibrator and turns it on. he reaches in between your bodies and presses it against your swollen clit making you moan out.
“oh… fuck-!” he chuckles darkly as he starts to fuck you hard, the headboard slowly starting to hit the wall louder and louder with each stroke. his cock twitches in your cunt as you dig your nails into his back, the toy making your cunt clench around his cock every single time.
“you feel so fucking good baby, fuck. fuck i need to fill you up with my cum. you want that baby? you want daddy’s cum?” you whine as you nod, pressing into him. your body feels like it’s on fire with the vibrations of the toy and how his cock stretches your cunt out with a burn.
“please bucky, mm,” you lose your brain as you start melting into the sheets feeling your body shiver and your toes curl. he grins against your skin as he feels your cunt squeeze his cock for all it’s worth as he cums harshly, feeling you follow right after.
“oh, baby…” he hums softly as he tosses the toy to the side and sits up but doesn’t pull out. his cock is throbbing inside of you and you feel his cum leak out of your hole and down onto the sheets. “don’t think i’m done with you yet.”
#asks#anon#fae reqs.#fae bucky blurbs#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barns x y/n#bucky barns x reader#bucky barns imagine#bucky x female reader#bucky x y/n#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky barns fanfiction#bucky smut#bucky fanfic
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Big Boy
Kinktober 2023 - Day 3
Pairing: Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Petite!Fem!Reader
Kink: Size Kink
Word Count: 1.9k
Summary: You meet Bucky in Romania and you show him a good time for the first time in 70 years.
Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (unprotected sex, unprotected vaginal sex, vaginal sex, creampie, oral sex (f! receiving) , hickies, size kink, overstimulation, missionary), slight!inexperienced!Bucky, lots of fluff, smitten!Bucky
a/n: Hello everyone! Here is Day 3! I'm working on the days I missed but it might be a while! Hope you enjoy!
Banners by @vase-of-lilies
Bucky has been in Romania for almost a year and he liked his crappy apartment, taking odd jobs, but his favorite thing to do was come down to the fruit market outside of his apartment. His favorite stand was the plum and baked goods stand run by you. The most beautiful dame he’s ever seen and he loves talking to you because you listen and treat him normally, not like a freak which everyone else treats him like. They avoid him like the plague and don’t ever talk to him but you? You will stand and talk to him for hours no matter how many people avoid your booth but you couldn’t care less. He was so charming and yet with a shyness that you found it so adorable. You would talk his ear off which he found adorable and he did want to ask you out, he was terrified if his past caught up to him then you would get hurt in the crossfire.
But then, you asked him out for a cup of coffee. He said yes. Then one date turned into two and now it was after your fourth date that he found himself in your small house outside of the city. It was small but neat, wall to wall bookshelves, somewhat modern kitchen with a cozy reading nook in the bay window and it was perfect. It smelled like you making him calm as your scent surrounds him. You walked over with two cups of tea and handed him one as you sat down beside him.
“I know it’s not much but it’s home.” You said as you sip your tea.
He smiled and shook his head, “It’s beautiful, doll. It represents you.” He said as he sipped his tea then set the cup down.
You set your mug down and turned to face him, “I have a confession.”
He suddenly became a little nervous but swallowed silently. “What’s going on?”
You took a deep breath and bit your lip before speaking, “I know this is only our fourth date and I don’t want to rush or anything but… I really want you, tonight.” You whispered as you peered up at his curious blue eyes.
“O-oh, doll. I-I would love to, it’s just it’s been a while and I’m not sure how well I would… um… perform.” He said hesitantly and you nodded as you listened.
“I totally understand that and we don’t have to do anything tonight. I just wanted to bring up the subject.” You whispered sheepishly but his super hearing caught it and he sighed but gave you a warm smile.
“How about we start and you just show me what you like?” He offered with a genuine smile which made your heart warm.
You nodded and bit your lip, “I would like that.” You smiled and you slowly leaned over to cup his cheek with one hand and your lips ghosted over his.
You leaned up to press a soft and loving kiss to his lips. Bucky’s cheeks warmed as you went slow with him and his large hands grasped your waist gently and helped you straddle his lap as you two continued to kiss passionately and slowly. He smiled against your lips and he pulled back to kiss down your jaw and neck slowly remembering the few times he was with a girl and how they liked their neck kissed. You gasped softly as you felt his teeth gently graze against your skin, your hands moved up to his hair combing through it gently feeling the soft locks through your fingers. He had washed his hair for tonight because you two were going to a fancy restaurant so he decided to get cleaned up for you which he’s thankful he did.
You pulled his head back up to kiss his lips passionately as you moved your hands down to start unbuttoning his shirt slowly, once undone you ran your hands up his chest softly. He froze under your touch as you got close to his metal arm and you felt him tense and you pulled away to look up at him.
“What’s wrong?” You asked cupping his face gently.
“I… um… lost my arm in the war and it’s really messed up.” He said self-consciously as he laid his head back on the couch.
You sighed and pulled his face down to look you in your eyes. “I don’t care about scars or missing limbs or anything like that. You are the sweetest man I’ve ever met and no matter what you look like, it doesn’t matter to me. I like you for you.” You whispered to him and he smiled softly as his chest warmed with your words and he leaned down and kissed you passionately. You smiled against his lips and pulled him closer and your hands moved back under his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders and you pulled away to look at his bare chest. “You’re so handsome.” You whispered as you caressed his chest and up to his shoulders. You leaned up to kiss his lips deeply and he smiled against your lips and his large hands squeezed your hips softly as he held you close to him.
He looked down at your small body on his lap, he loved how small you were compared to him. It turned him on like he’s never been before, not before the war, not ever. He felt an overwhelming attraction to you, you were his diamond in the rough and he just wished that this wouldn’t be ruined, but he didn’t want to think of that, he just wanted to enjoy the moment with you. To feel your small body pressed against him having him get the skin to skin contact he craves.
He unzipped your dress and let it pool around your hips revealing your dark blue lace bra and a peak at your matching panties making Bucky groan softly and he leaned down and pressed kisses to the tops of your breasts as his hands squeezed the meat of your thighs. “You’re so beautiful, doll. So soft and small.” He whispered against your breasts as his strong hands moved down to help you shimmy out of your dress. You reached behind you to unhook your bra and threw it somewhere in the room making Bucky groan at your newly revealed skin. “You’re going to kill me, doll.”
You giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down to kiss him passionately, your breasts pressed against his bare chest. “Take me to bed, Jamie.” You whispered against his lips making him smirk and scoop you up without any effort. You squealed softly as you wrapped yourself around his chest and he carried you to your bedroom down the hall before gently placing you on the bed. He pulled away and finished taking off his shirt then unbuckled his jeans and undoing them as you slid back against the pillows and let your knees fall open for him.
He growled softly before he quickly kicked off his jeans before climbing onto the bed and laid in between your legs pulling them over his shoulders as his lips pressed soft kisses to your inner thighs making you gasp softly at the sensitivity. “You’re so soft and pretty, sweets. Can’t believe I have you to myself.” He mumbled against your skin, making you smile wider.
“Sweet talker.” You smiled as you threaded your fingers through his hair tugging him closer to where you wanted him.
His hands reached up to yank your panties down and off your body, revealing your soaked folds to him making him groan low in his throat and he pulled you closer by your thighs. His lips engulfed your clit sucking softly making your hips jolt up and his tongue moved down to lick through your folds. You cried out softly arching your back against his face as his tongue slid through your folds and up to your clit. The coil in your belly started to tighten as his lips sucked on your sensitive bud making your hips buck up and you pulled his face closer to your cunt by his hair. He doubled his efforts as he felt your cunt pulse against his tongue making your moans grow louder and you arched against him. The coil tightened as you were pushed over the edge cumming hard on his face making him groan as your taste flooded his senses. He helped you through your orgasm as your thighs shook around his head and he pulled away with your juices on his face and a smirk crossing his lips.
“You taste so sweet, doll.” He purred as he climbed up your body to connect his lips with yours as his hands pulled your legs up around his waist. You helped him shuffle off his boxers as you two made out and he held you close to him. His large body covering you and pressing you against the mattress which helped ground you as you felt his thick cock press against your weeping hole.
“You feel huge, baby.” You whispered as you pulled away from his lips to lock eyes with his blue ones.
“It might be a tight fit.” He chuckled, making you smile and kiss him deeply and you reached down to help him line his cock up to your hole. He slowly started sliding the thick mushroom tip of his cock into you making you moan and your eyes water at the burn. “Deep breaths, baby doll.” He whispered as he wrapped his arms around your waist and gently pressed you against his chest. He slowly continued to slide into your tight cunt groaning at your walls squeezing him tightly and he leaned down to kiss you deeper.
“A-ah, so big. H-hurts.” You whimpered quietly and he reached down to rub your clit softly helping turn your pain into pleasure.
“I’m right here. I got you.” He whispered against your lips as he rested his forehead against yours. He finally slid all the way home making him groan and moan at your walls clenching and pulsing around his cock. You moaned his name and whimpered softly at the underlying pain but your pleasure overtook the pain and eventually the pain went away and you pleaded with him to start moving.
Bucky linked your fingers through his and pinned them above your head and slowly started thrusting in and out of you. You moaned his name as you arched your back and squeezed his hands. He groaned as your walls sucked him in as he pulled out then thrusted back in. Your eyes locked and he pressed a warm kiss to your lips making you purr softly. He pulled back to look down at your lower belly as he thrusted in and out of you, you had a slight bulge to your belly as Bucky slid into you and out making you whimper at the stimulation to your g-spot.
He slowly took you apart piece by piece making you moan and whimper and cum over and over again on his cock. He loved to hold you close as he made you cum and feel every twitch and shake of your body. He finally couldn’t hold his orgasm back and came deep inside of your overstimulated cunt and made sure that you took all of his cum and he held you close as you crashed from your highs together. He helped you to the bathroom to clean you two up then you two laid on the bed together. You laying on his chest as his large hands traced shapes on your bare back making you smile and snuggle closer to him, happy to stay with him forever no matter what tries to pull you two apart.
#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader smut#bucky barnes x you#fanfiction#fanfic#fandom#marvel#marvel fic#kinktober#marvel fanfiction#marvel smut#2023 kinktober
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This is what I think living with Beefy!Bucky would look like:
THERE ARE TWO PARTS, SFW AND NSFW (please read the warnings before you start reading, and lemme know if I missed anything!)
Warnings: allusions towards sex, allusions towards unprotected sex, shower sex, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, spitting on v and Beefy!Bucky being hot (yes that's a warning). Please feel free to DM me if I missed anything :)
SFW:
Bucky would walk around only in sweatpants (of your choice, obvi🤭). His muscular chest and back are on display 24/7, and he'll only wear a Henley (you bought one in every colour for his birthday) during the winter.
You would only wear either one of his T-shirts or Henleys around, with a pair of underwear and that's it.
Ya'll cook dinner together every night. Bucky bought an old record player so, he could play all the old records you got him for Christmas. And while dinner is cooking, he'll pull you to the side by your waist then slow dance with you to either Ella Fitzgerald or Frank Sinatra.
"C'mon, doll. The rice is not going to get burnt. It's jus' one dance. F'me?" He smiles, as he pulls you in by your waist. You smile at your man begrudgingly, and place your palms on his bare chest, "fine. But just one song." You say in your playfully stern voice. Bucky laughs and presses a kiss to your hairline, "anything for you, doll."
You sweep and dust, Bucky mops and vacuums.
He'll let you get any household accessory for ya'll's apartment, whether it be a trinket, a fake cactus, or a picture frame.
"Are you sure?" You ask, holding onto the snow globe with a little glass dachshund inside of it. Bucky laughs and rubs your back, "s'fine doll, I think it'll look great next to the record player," he gives in to your want to buy the snow globe. You squealed when you first saw it, and Bucky knew he had to get it immediately.
You'll be singing a song with headphones on, making some coffee in the kitchen, and just dancing wildly. And Bucky would just lean against the wall of the hallway, just staring at you lovingly.
Laundry day is actually fun, you would fold the cleaned and dried linen and clothes. While Bucky would put them back in their drawers and shelves (using his astonishingly tall height).
NSFW(alright here we go):
If you're bending over the counter to wipe a specific mark that won't go away, Bucky won't be able to hold himself back.
You bite your lip in concentration and scrub at the mark with a wet sponge, but it doesn't go away. Suddenly, you feel two large hands grab at your hips and pull you back. "Fuck me, doll. You can't do that," he growls into your ear, slowly shoving your underwear aside. You giggle and ask what does he mean. "You can't be bent over the counter and then not expect me to fuck you," he shoves his own sweatpants down. You roll your eyes, as you feel the tip of him at your entrance. "Bucky," you whine, slightly pushing your hips back in his direction. "Yes, sweetheart?" he smirks, pressing his lips against your neck. "Buck, I need you," you softly moan and throw your head back against his shoulder. "Oh I know baby, me too," he whispers in her ear.
When he comes home after a long day, and hear's you in the shower, he will not hesitate to jump in with you.
He drags himself to your shared bathroom and hears the creaky pipes of your shower being used. He smiles and walks into the bathroom. You smile when you see him, "Hey, love. How was your day?" He smiles as he starts undressing before hopping in the shower with you, "better now that I'm here with you." He kisses you passionately before pushing you up against the wall, he slightly bends and grabs the back of your thighs. "Jump" is the only word he growls against your lips. You giggle and jump slightly, and your legs are wrapped around his waist as he uses his godly strength to hold you up against the wall. You moan, as you feel him rub his tip on your sensitive button. "Bucky, baby, please," you whine as you grip onto his broad shoulders. "Oh doll, you don't have to beg me. I going to fuck you either way."
Morning sex is an everyday thing that happens at y'all's apartment. He'll either wake you up to the scene of him in between your thighs. OR. He'll wake you up with his cock inside of you. Either way, you're not complaining.
You stir at the tingly feeling between your thighs, and you open your eyes groggily to see Buck (and his beefiness) wrapping your thighs around his head. He winks and smirks at you, "mornin', doll." He licks a thick strip up your slit, and you arch your back at the sudden sensation, "ah! Bucky!" Bucky continues to swivel his tongue over your clit, knowing how much you love it. Your moans slowly get louder, as Bucky soon pokes at your hole with his thick fingers. Soon you're wailing in pleasure, and grabbing at Bucky's hair begging him to make you come. "Come f'me, princess," he says before spiting harshly on your pussy.
🎀🎀🎀
Please lemme know what you think, this is my first piece of work 😊.
If you have any feedback, feel free to DM me.
Thank you for reading lovelies!!
Stay Coquette-y,
Anya 🫶🏽🕊️🎀
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#mcu bucky barnes#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes au#james bucky barnes#james bucky buchanan barnes#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes and reader
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The thought of beefy Bucky fucking me like he owns me (which he does😩) keeps running through my mind🤤🥵
SMUT DOWN BELOW!!
Bucky had you face down ass up on the bed. He was fucking into you with brutal and rough thrusts. You were a horny and whiny mess for your man.
“You’re so damn big!” You gasped.
“Fucking take my cock like the good girl I know you are.” Bucky says.
You jolted away slightly when you felt Bucky’s cold metal fingers rubbing roughly on your sensitive clit. His right hand pulled you back to him.
“What the hell did I tell you about moving away from me, doll?” He asks.
“N-Not to!” You whimpered.
“Then fucking stay still.” He says.
Your hands gripped the sheets, squeezing them for the life of you. Your orgasm was approaching you once again, but you had a feeling that Bucky was going to tell you to hold it again.
“Bucky, please let me- oh fuck! Cum! I-I don’t think I can hold it anymore!” You whined desperately.
“Since you’ve been such a good girl for me, go ahead, doll.” He says.
His metal fingers continued to rub your clit roughly. Your toes curled at the feeling of your orgasm coming closer and closer until you came so hard that your cum was dripping from in between your thighs and dripping down Bucky’s lower abdomen and thighs.
“Gonna fill you up till my cum is dripping out of you.” Bucky groans, tilting his head back.
“Please! I want it!” You begged.
“Of course you fucking do, you dirty little slut.” He growls.
Bucky came inside of you. You moaned at the feeling of his cum inside of your wet pussy. Bucky’s thrusts came to a slow stop. He was about to pull out, but you stopped him.
“No! Please stay inside of me!” You say, panting.
Bucky let out a breathy laugh and laid down next to you. He ran his metal fingers up and down your side.
“You did so good for me, doll.” He says softly.
“Mmm.” You hummed before falling asleep.
🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵
Beefy Bucky can have me😩
-Bucky’s Doll
#sergeant james buchanan barnes#sergeant james barnes#sergeant barnes#james buchanan bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#james barnes#bucky barnes#winter soldier#beefy bucky#sebastian stan#sebastian stan characters#the avengers#avengers#marvel#captain america civil war#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes smut
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Let Me
Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x reader (Mafia/Mob AU)
Word Count: 1,191
Author's Note: I can't get enough of super softie Mob!Bucky and I was thinking about how after a shit awful day it would be so lovely to come home to him and of course he prioritizes you above all else. Thank you so much for reading! Much love always ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰
Warnings: softness and fluff and sweetness and love and a bad day but Bucky fixes everything!
I picture him with the long hair/bun and beefiness and looking classy and amazing but not to flashy! You know- just right for someone as powerful as him 🫠
You walk in the door, dropping your bag to the floor and toeing off your shoes so fast they bounce off the wall. With a slight wince your shoulders jump before you deflate and drag yourself toward the kitchen.
A comforting aroma fills the hallway the closer you get and you start to hear the clinking and clanging of pots and pans.
You were expecting to come home to an empty apartment.
“Bucky?” you ask quietly as you round the corner.
He looks up from the stove, his smile faltering when he sees the look on your face. He rushes toward you with his arms outstretched and open.
Your eyes well with tears and you launch yourself into his embrace, burying your face against his bare skin and taking a deep breath.
“You’re home,” you mumble.
“’Course I am doll,” he states. “You sounded terrible on the phone so I wanted to be here when you got back.”
“But…” you sniffle. “You said you had a very important meeting tonight…”
“Steve can handle it for now,” he murmurs and kisses the top of your head, “you’re more important.”
You tighten your grip and look up, resting your chin on his chest. “Thank you.”
He dips his head, the light brush of his lips making your eyelashes flutter closed.
Without a word he leads you out of the kitchen and into the bedroom. He stops in front of his closet and shuffles through his folded tee shirts. After pulling one out he moves to your dresser and gets a pair of your most comfortable cotton panties and a fuzzy pair of socks.
Then he sits on the edge of the bed and crooks you over with his finger, positioning your body between his spread thighs. He starts to unbutton your blouse; his movements deliberate and slow. Once he has all the buttons undone he carefully slips the silk from your shoulders, letting it pool at your feet.
“Want to tell me about it baby doll?” he asks softly before running his fingers along your collarbone.
He gently grabs your chin and brings your eyes down to his, then brushes his thumb across your lips.
“It was just awful,” you blurt out, leaning into his touch.
Your fingers trace his jaw, falling lower until they meet his necklace. You toy with the gold, dancing your fingers along the outline and over his chest.
As you ramble on about the shit day you had he reaches behind you to unclasp your bra, delicately letting it fall forward until your free of the constricting lace. You sigh in relief but shiver at the chill of air against your bare skin.
“Absolutely stunning,” he murmurs as his eyes sweep over your skin.
He grabs your hips and pulls you closer, placing soft kisses along the swell of your breasts.
You sigh contentedly and rest your hands on his shoulders.
He reaches for his tee shirt. “Arms up,” he instructs and you lift them.
When he has his shirt secured over your arms he lets it fall down your body and you’re instantly surrounded by soft warmth and his soothing scent.
“And then I lost one of my diamond earrings,” you continue, sniffling between every other word.
He listens intently while he changes your clothes, removing your skirt next and then your stockings.
“Aw baby doll. But it’s ok, I’ll buy you another pair,” he assures you.
He takes your hand in his and ghosts his lips across your knuckles.
When he gets to your shoes he lifts your foot into his lap and unstraps your heel. Before he sets your foot down again he gives it a little massage, making your groan as you go on with your rant.
“But you gave those to me on our honeymoon in Greece. It was such a special moment and…”
He looks up at you lovingly as he hooks his thumbs into your lace panties and tugs them down your legs and off your feet. Once he has your cotton pair in his hands he slides them up, adjusting them before pressing his lips to your stomach, his soft butterfly kisses making you giggle.
“And?” he says, waiting for you to finish.
“I would have been heartbroken to lose it but thankfully, I ended up finding it in my bag. It must have fallen out and into there.”
“Good thing,” he says. “I can’t have you heartbroken over anything. And I would have figured out a way to fix it.”
“I know,” you answer.
He takes the fuzzy socks and slides each one on, then stands and tucks you under his arm.
“I like when you help me get dressed,” you tell him.
“As much as you like when I undress you?” he simpers, throwing you a playful wink.
“No way, that’s my favorite.”
“Mine too,” he croons with a sweet kiss as he leads you to the living room.
“Wait here,” he says, “and then you can tell me about the rest of the day.”
You nod and watch him leave then lift the collar of his tee shirt to sniff it.
“Smell good?” he muses as he walks back in with a plate of food.
You smile sweetly. “Almost as good as you.”
He sits on the couch with a smirk and pats his thigh. “Come ‘ere doll.”
You shift and move into his lap, resting against his chest.
“So finish telling me what happened,” he gently prods as he picks up the fork of food and lifts it to your lips. “But make sure you chew first.”
You take the bite and moan around the delicious taste, chewing well before you let the rest of your problems out. With each bite he waits patiently for you to talk and chew and all the while you mindlessly fiddle with his wedding ring, twirling it around his finger.
“I didn’t realize how hungry I was,” you say, opening up for another bite of food.
“Did you eat anything after we had breakfast this morning?” he asks pointedly.
You drop your chin. “No.”
“Doll face,” he admonishes. “You have to eat throughout the day!”
“I was busy and it was such a shitty day,” you whine, trying to defend yourself even though you know he’s right.
“I know,” he coos softly, placing the plate down and grabbing dessert. “But promise me you’ll be more careful.”
“I promise,” you tell him, sealing it with a kiss.
Once the dessert plate is clean and you’re licking your lips for the last drops of deliciousness, he puts down the plate and then pulls his hair tie free, releasing his bun so his hair falls loosely at his shoulders. You grab the tie and slip it over his wrist with a smile.
He lays down on the couch, taking you with him until your cocooned in his arms.
“Want to watch something?” he asks as his hands reverently wander over your skin.
“Can we just cuddle for now?”
You nuzzle his neck, softly running your nose along the strong muscles before placing a soft kiss to his scruffy jaw.
“Anything you want doll.”
@book-dragon-13 @buckysdollforlife @blackwidownat2814 @hiddles-rose @randomfandompenguin @sebstanwhore @hallecarey1 @kmc1989 @goldylions
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#mob!bucky barnes#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x female reader#mob!bucky x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes fanfiction#mob!bucky barnes x reader#mob au#mafia au#bucky barnes au#sebastian stan#sebastian stan x reader
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thinking about mating press with beefy!bucky. all that weight on top of you, knowing for certain he’s about to breed you?? ughhh
Oh God yes, the thought of this makes me fucking purr 🤤
Just the thought of his thick, slightly curved cock sliding as deep inside as you can take. The feeling of his tip rubbing against your cervix before he withdraws, pulling almost entirely out of you before he glides back in again.
"Good girl, 'm so proud of you. Cum nice and hard for me, I've got you. You're safe." He holds you so close, letting you sob your pleasure against his neck while he works you through another orgasm. It's tender and romantic and loving and you're beyond aware that this man makes you insanely wet.
Your thighs are still trembling as you come down from your high. Each thrust now feels like it's almost too much but with the way Bucky's groaning, he might not be able to keep it up for much longer.
"Fuck, you feel like Heaven. This pretty little pussy was made for me. Made to be mine." His thrusts are punishing but it's an addictive feeling. "I'm going to fill you. I'm not going to pull out. Going to give you a baby."
You're almost surprised how badly you want that but it's very hard to find the words to tell him; not when his thrusts are beginning to stutter and his high seems to get closer and closer.
"I'm going to fuck a baby into you." His hand holds your chin, making sure he can see your eyes. The evidence of pleasure written all over his face might've been enough to convince you that you could handle another orgasm but you'll still not quite sure that's a good idea.
Within a few more seconds, his cock is throbbing inside you, shooting stripes of hot, thick cum right against your cervix. He looks entirely content with his decision, pressing as deep as he can so you can feel him pulse and twitch.
There's not much you need to say to each other for a few seconds. Instead, it's nice to just listen to you both trying to catch your breath while your partner floods your waiting, fluttering sex with his cum.
#asks answered <3#becca writes spice#beefy!bucky#beefy!bucky smut#the sleepies have hit me hard this week#I had a really productive day today though#Washed and dried all my new tableware and assigned it a cupboard to live in#Had a lovely afternoon just listening to some Hozier and getting my kitchen looking nice#I've had this one really filthy thought that I might just have to find the time to write this week
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Beefy Bucky Obsessed with your clit. He’s so thick and beefy and large and delicious and obsessed with the tiniest part of you between your legs.
“Fuck, I love the pretty sounds you make when I play with you there baby” he groaned, shoving your legs apart as wide as they’d go as you laid naked on his bed. His eyes were fixated on your soaked cunt, specifically his favourite part, biting his lip before pushing his hips forward so his cock head would nudge your sensitive nub.
“Buckyyy” you whined, as he let out a dark chuckle, pushing your knees back so you were on full display.
“Shhh, lemme play with your cute little button baby, I love the little squeals you make when I-” he spat onto your clot before pressing his thumb firmly against you, rubbing tight circles, already building up your orgasm “-when I rub you like this”
He loves alternating between watching your pretty contorted face and twitching and quivering pussy, shoving his cock in without warning making you scream.
“Fuck you get so tight around my dick when I touch your clit princess” he gently pinches it with while continuing to tail you, moaning at how delicate you feel there.
He’s a bigger menace with having you ride his face.
“C’mon, sit on my face sugar, lemme nurse off your sweet clit baby, I want it” he grabs your hips and slams them down on his face, breathing be damned, his hand furiously fisting his cock while wrapping his lips and suckling greedily. He meant it when it said he wanted to nurse off you, groaning and lapping at you like a hungry puppy, his metal arm holding you in place.
He doesn’t give a fuck about if you’re out on a mission either. He can see the stress on your face and he wants to make it better. He drags you to an empty hall, pushing you to a corner, caging you in.
“James, what are you-”
“Shhh, just let me feel it, don’t make a sound baby” he whispered in your ear, shoving his hand down your tac pants and pulling your panties aside. He swiped his fingers through your folds till he finds that exact spot, your clit swollen and silky on his calloused fingers. “Yeah, right there huh, I’ll rub it all better,”
“J-Jamie please” you gasp, collapsing against his thick form while he holds you up with ease, moving faster.
“I know it feels good baby, know you’re a needy little baby who needy daddy to make her princess parts all better when they’re tingly”
He gets so dirty when he’s like his, his own cock aching with need. He pulls it out and guides your hand to stroke him, thrusting his hips forward while moaning in your ear. You feel him harden in your hand, his length twitching while your legs feel like jelly, biting down on his jacket to muffle your screams.
“You’re all wound up, aren’t you doll, so stressed, could tell by your face you needed daddy to come rub you, needed daddy to rub it better”
“Oh god, please!” You wailed, jerking him faster, his hips stuttering when you focused on his cockhead.
“Together pretty girl, together, make a mess in your panties baby, we’ll make a mess together-fuck-oh god fuckkk” Bucky hissed, trying to keep from getting too loud while he slapped his hand over your mouth as you came. Thick white ropes of his spend shot onto the wall, dribbles of it coating your fingers. He pulled his hand out, licking your arousal off.
“Gonna clean that mess up with my tongue when we get home princess”
Alright, back to work.
#beefy bucky x you#bucky barnes x you#bucky x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#beefy bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes smut#Bucky smut#beefy bucky barnes fluff#beefy bucky#beefy bucky smut#beefy bucky x reader#beefy bucky fluff#bucky barnes fan fiction#bucky barnes fanfic#chubby bucky smut#james bucky buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#beefy bucky barnes#beefy bucky barnes x you#bucky x f reder#bucky barnes x smut#marvel smut
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All Around Me
Pairing: Beefy!Bucky x Fem!Reader
Summary: He was everywhere, all around you in the best way possible
Content Warning: Beefy!Bucky is a warning; established relationship; language; smut; vaginal sex; unprotected sex (do better); vaginal fingering; multiple orgasms; language; possible mentions of bodily fluids; Bucky's metal arm probably; fluff; whatever else I failed to mention
Word Count: 1237
Note: Was this requested? I believe it was, but Tumblr won't let me see my inboxes. I hope you guys like this. I'll come back here and there to make some edits where it's necessary. Any gifs or pictures I use are not mine.
Gentle reminder that I am always open for feedback! 💕
You gasped, eyes fluttering shut and mouth hanging open. Your legs were spread, his hand buried deep in your core, working you slowly to a much-needed release. His fingers were thick and calloused, the feeling sending shocks of pleasure up your spine. His thumb worked your swollen bundle of nerves, making the pleasure even more amazing. He'd already gotten two orgasms out of you with his fingers alone; he was determined to get a third.
"Bucky," you whimpered, moaning at how he stretched your drenched core. "Oh, baby—"
His head buried in your neck, his lips kissing along your neck, giving the occasional nip and bite at your sensitive spot. His body partially hovered over you as his fingers picked up their pace. He knew you were getting close—you were fluttering around him, and he wanted to see you come undone.
"Doin' so good, sweetheart," he murmured; his voice was thick with arousal. "You gonna cum for me?"
You nodded, his fingers working wonders on you. He gave your clit a final swipe with his calloused thumb, and you were a moaning mess. Your back arched, arousal coating his flesh hand as your release overtook you. Bucky continued to pump you, his lips and teeth working your neck as your high started to dwindle. He stopped when you jerked your hips. When he removed his hand, he placed his arousal-soaked fingers on your bottom lip. He lifted his head from your neck to watch you. You opened your mouth and sucked on them, moaning at the taste.
That was something you noticed early on with Bucky. He loved watching you suck on the fingers he fucked you with. You'd see his stormy eyes cloud over even more, and it only worked you up even more.
You took his fingers out with a visible 'pop,' and a soft groan came from Bucky. You could feel the weight of his arousal on your side. Your skin broke out into goosebumps. He was a big guy in every aspect. His arousal was thick and heavy, stretching you in a way that burned and pleasured you at the same time. It left you feeling full but wanting more.
Bucky leaned forward and kissed you, his lips fitting perfectly against yours. As his lips worked against yours, he gently nudged you with his nose—a request to open your mouth. You did, and his tongue found yours instantly. As the make-out progressed, he moved his body to be on top of you. He rested his weight on his arms, his metal one letting out an occasional whirring sound. Your hands tangled in his hair, angling your head to get more of him. You let out another gasp when he nipped your bottom lip.
"Are you ready?" he asked softly. You nodded. "I need to hear you say it."
"Yes," you responded breathlessly. Bucky gave you another open-mouthed kiss before resting his forehead against yours. Your hands moved to his shoulders, waiting in anticipation. His arousal laid heavily on your stomach during the make-out session, and you felt his hand gently brush your side as he moved to grab it. You felt his fingers curl around his length, and you spread your legs even further. The thick head of his length brushed against your core, and you let out a breathy sigh.
Bucky pushed his tip in, watching your eyes flutter shut and your mouth fall open. "Oh," you hummed, biting your bottom lip. Your cheeks and chest were flushed, and Bucky knew he needed more. He loved seeing you lose yourself on his fingers, but on his cock was something else. He continued pushing himself in; the feeling of your wet heat fluttering, so tight and delicious, around him was all he could focus on. Fully sheathed inside you, the two of you were breathing heavily.
"Please," you panted. "Baby, please." You felt full, nearly split open from the length and girth of your boyfriend. You wanted more—you needed more.
Bucky was drunk on the feeling of you. His brain was foggy, and his eyes clouded as he hovered over you. Without a word, the ex-assassin began rolling his hips against yours. He watched hungrily as you moaned, your breasts bouncing in time with his thrusts. You moved along the pillow with each thrust that met your hips. Your hands went from his shoulders to his back, nails digging into the muscled skin. You continued to flutter around him. Bucky dropped his head to your neck.
Bucky was all around you—inside you, on top of you. You were surrounded by his smell, by the feeling of him. You felt every ridge and vein; you felt his head buried in your neck. His hair tickled against your skin, and you felt how short his breaths were. You wished you could stay this way forever. When you felt his metal arm slide down your stomach to your swollen bundle of nerves, you gasped. His length alone was enough to bring you over the edge—the coil inside you was tightening with each thrust, but the harsh movements of his hands on your sensitive nerves only brought you closer.
His rhythm was getting sloppy, harsher as he chased his own release. "I'm—I'm so…" you moaned. Bucky nodded against your neck, nipping at your soft skin. He needed you to go first. He felt the pressure in him building, almost too much until—
Bucky let out a heavy groan. He spilled inside you, rope after rope of his release coating your walls and filling you even more. The ex-assassin kept rutting into you, hoping to make his high last just a little longer. He heard you moan beneath him, and embarrassment mixed with his pleasure. Bucky paused his movements, breathing heavily.
"Baby?" you hummed. "Are you—"
"I'm sorry," he mumbled. His member continued to twitch inside you, his release still stuffing you full. "Fuck—I'm so sorry."
You gently tugged at his hair and he pulled his head up. Bucky's cheeks were flushed, a heavy frown on his lips. "Don't apologize," you rasped. "I don't care, really."
"You're supposed—"
"No," you interrupted. You could feel him begin to soften inside you. "Not always. It's fine if you're first. I like it."
Bucky looked at you. You were smiling, eyes filled with adoration. One of your hands cupped his cheek. You were saying so much with just your eyes, it eased the emotions inside Bucky.
"At least let me return the favor." He gave you an almost pleading look.
"I'd love you to."
Bucky smiled and gave a single nod. His metal hand continued its work on your clit, rubbing the nerves in harsh circles. You let out a soft moan, pulling Bucky's lips to yours. The kiss was sloppy and desperate. The coil in you was getting tighter and tighter; your moans were getting higher and higher. The cool metal from his fingers contrasted with your heated skin; it made you feel even better. With one last swipe, you tumbled over the edge, moaning and whining against Bucky's lips. Your body trembled under his, wave after wave of pleasure washing over you like a tsunami.
Bucky kept working you, hoping to make your release last longer. Once it came down, your lips pulled apart. You saw how swollen and spit-covered Bucky's mouth was, and you had no doubt yours was the same. But God, if he didn't look beautiful.
Masterlist
Taglist: @staria9100 @cuddlefishextrodinaire @radcollectivesoul @ramielll @identity2212 @lelialynn @whiminiferous @gracescor3 @winterslove1917 @hailycheyenne @dp-marvel94 @queerponcho @mysterystrawberrynigt @oscarissac2099
#fanfiction#avengers#marvel#marvel cinematic universe#avengers x reader#marvel x reader#marvel cinematic universe x reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#avengers fanfiction#smut#marvel cinematic universe smut#avengers smut#bucky barnes fanfiction#sebastian stan
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